


The Real Thing

by nekojita



Series: Raven Soulmates [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Andrew and Neil fight things at first, Andrew isn't going to tell him, Andrew on medication, Canon-Typical Violence, DO NOT REPOST OR COPY TO ANOTHER SITE, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Neil as Nathaniel, Neil really wants to know what a/b/o means, Pet Names, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, but you know it's a losing battle, it's the Nest consider yourself warned, no non-con happens in the story though, not Andrew's watch, the jerejean is more pre-relationship, they're stubborn like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27674329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita
Summary: Andrew was more than willing to turn down the Ravens' offer to be their newest goalie, unwilling to play five more years of Exy - let alone for someone with a too-sharp smile and a manic gleam in their eyes.That was, until he realized that a member of their Perfect Court was his soulmate. (That was, until Riko Moriyama realized that Nathaniel Wesninski, the Ravens' #3 in waiting, was Andrew's soulmate.)Andrew always knew that Fate loved tormenting him, he didn't need a reminder yet again via a too-attractive soulmate who appeared to loathe him. Yet things aren't always what they seem, especially in the Nest.
Relationships: Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Kevin Day/Thea Muldani, Neil Josten & Jean Moreau, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose
Series: Raven Soulmates [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2023654
Comments: 55
Kudos: 472





	The Real Thing

**Author's Note:**

> If you're following me on Tumblr (nekojitachan), you might have seen this fic posted there. I've had requests to post it here, so *tada*.
> 
> I'm slowly working on the second part, which I may just put up on Tumblr until complete then post here.
> 
> Uhm... well, warnings for violence (nothing too graphic? But I figured better safe than sorry for the ratings), attempted non-con (again, nothing graphic, nothing that gets far at all and is stopped and only happens once), references to past non-con, and... well, Nathan and the Nest and the Moriyamas. Oh, and Andrew on meds. Let me know if you think the tags need adjusted.  
> *******

*******

Andrew was used to not getting what he wanted, to Fate always fucking him over in various ways. There was the fact that _he_ was the twin which Tilda had given up for adoption and the long chain of nightmare foster ‘families’. There was finally finding what he’d thought was a home with Cass Spear and then _Drake_ showing up to ruin it (to ruin him). There had been the time in juvie, only for Pig Higgins to meddle and Luther to be an annoyance then off to Columbia Andrew had gone.

Things hadn’t gotten any better there, had they? Oh no, there it had been Tilda and Aaron and yet another new mess, had been Nicky stepping in to try to make things better and the night out in Eden’s parking lot with its ensuing consequences. Had been Andrew picking back up the Exy he’d taken up in juvie as a means to escape some of the mandatory therapy sessions (everyone trying to get into his head and beneath his skin, everyone trying to _control_ him), and continuing to play it as an attempt to keep an eye on Aaron, which had led to a bunch of annoying birdies paying him a visit.

He didn’t give a shit about scholarships or Edgar Allan or the best team in NCAA Class I division, about the promises of fame and fortune when the only thing that got him up each medicated day was the promise he’d made to his brother. Yet an arrogant Riko Moriyama and demanding Kevin Day had brought with them a pretty shadow with red hair and a sardonic grin bearing a ‘3’ tattoo on his left cheek, one Nathaniel Wesninski. Andrew had the impression that he was there as someone closer to Andrew’s age since the kid hadn’t graduated yet and wasn’t ‘officially’ a Raven even though he bore the stupid Perfect Court tramp stamp and had lived at Edgar Allan the last several years.

All he knew was that he was in the middle of his fifth variation of ‘fuck off and fuck you’ to Moriyama and Day when Wesninski shifted a little closer (he thought that Day had given him a push), and then _it_ had happened; both of them stiffened in reaction, Wesninski’s pale eyes widening a little but still the big grin on Andrew’s face as Wesninski clutched at his left forearm and Andrew rubbed his, at the throbbing area hidden beneath his armband.

At the dark patch of skin which could never be excised, no matter how much he or anyone ( _Drake_ ) had tried – it was his soul mark, after all, was waiting for his ‘other half’ to find him so it could reveal its true form so he’d know that they’d finally crossed paths (Drake at first had been bitter that it hadn’t changed for him, and then taunted Andrew that it never would change, that his soulmate would never want him).

Wesninski was quick to drop his right hand, as was Andrew, but Riko Moriyama had noticed and snatched at the redhead’s left wrist with a pleased grin. “Did it finally happen? Do you have something to show us, Nathaniel?” he asked in a too bright voice while Wesninski flinched, the motion slight. His fingers dug into the smaller boy’s forearm as he yanked back the sleeve of the black shirt to reveal a bright black mark against skin marred by what looked to be a few thin scars – an infinity symbol with a north star placed over the center of it. “That’s new,” Moriyama said as he turned toward Andrew while Wesninski – Nathaniel – shook his head.

“I… it’s nothing,” Nathaniel tried to argue, which surprised Andrew since everyone (almost everyone) was so eager to find their soulmates; his words made Day stare at him in shock.

Moriyama clicked his tongue in disagreement. “No it’s not, you just found your soulmate!” He gave Andrew a sharp grin. “Your soulmate and our newest goalie, isn’t this such a happy occasion?” As he spoke, he dug his fingers even more into Nathaniel’s forearm, into his wrist, until Nathaniel gulped and closed his eyes as if to bear the pain… but he didn’t pull away and he didn’t try to fight back.

Andrew never wanted a soulmate. He refused to believe that someone was ‘his’, that he was tied to another person because of some stupid twist of fate, that they were meant to be together because of some stupid mark on their bodies when he could only stand to touch someone on his carefully defined terms, when he _knew_ that someone wouldn’t willing choose anyone as broken and tainted as himself.

Yet he signed the contract with Edgar Allan to be their goalie for five years, signed it for room and board and a yearly allowance, and even argued for an hardship scholarship for Aaron (there was no way they’d allow his brother on the team, not at his skill level, but as long as Aaron kept his grades up he could get a Bachelor’s degree in Biology without having to whore himself out for loans and then go elsewhere for medical school, which was all he wanted in the end). That saw through Andrew’s promise to his brother and left Nicky free to finally return to Germany and Erik, so everyone (but Andrew) was happy (what else was new?).

He thought that Riko Moriyama only agreed to his terms as a means to have that tighter of a leash on him, and as soon as they both graduated (Nicky stuck around until Aaron left Columbia), Andrew was off to Edgar Allan for the start of training and any illusions of his life improving were shattered.

Even though the Ravens had a nice big house on campus, they lived beneath Castle Evermore, the famous Exy stadium – all the better for Tetsuji Moriyama to control them, he supposed. They were also formed into pairs for the sake of sharing rooms and training, were told to stick together almost all the time… or else. Andrew _hated_ it, hated having to share space with another person, having someone close to him all the time, being told he had to rely on that person, to trust them (not going to happen).

He hated that it wasn’t Nathaniel (he shouldn’t care).

He hated that Nathaniel was paired with Jean Moreau, number ‘4’ of the Perfect Court, another backliner (he shouldn’t care, _dammit_ ).

He hated the way that Nathaniel looked at Moreau with such trust and affection, the way they were always murmuring in French to each other, Moreau’s dark head bowed since he towered over Nathaniel’s 5’2” by at least a foot (he _didn’t_ care, dammit, it was just the drugs).

Andrew’s ‘partner’ was Ben Anders, a second-year goalkeeper on the team, though his rank was much lower than Andrew’s – was ‘21’ and not the ‘10’ that Andrew had been given. Apparently, Day and Riko had argued about that, with Day wanting Andrew as Perfect Court and Riko stating that Andrew had to ‘prove’ it, so a compromise had been reached.

Anders wasn’t awful, he seemed to realize that he had to give Andrew some space and not to touch him, but he still was _there_ all the time and… and he wasn’t Nathaniel. Apparently, all the Ravens knew that Andrew was Nathaniel’s (Nate’s) soulmate (he suspected that he had a certain captain to thank for that) and gave them odd looks whenever they were near each other as if expecting some sort of acknowledgement, but Nathaniel would only pay attention to Andrew when he was out on the court, was in the goal.

Any other time his attention was reserved for Moreau and Riko and Day, for whatever Tetsuji (the ‘Master’) was telling the team to do, instructions on training drills, scrimmages or exercises. Despite his short stature, Nathaniel was more than capable of taking on players twice his size, in stymieing them from the goal and snatching the ball from them to pass it on to Day or Riko or whoever else was on offense at the moment; the few times that Andrew was in the goal which he was helping to defend they worked well together, would manage an odd ‘sync’ where he could pass the ball to Nathaniel without any effort should someone manage to get pass the kid and Moreau.

And then Nathaniel would be back to chasing after Moreau once the scrimmage was over, to sitting next to him and chatting about something, so animated and excited while Moreau smiled at him. Andrew didn’t understand it, especially since from what he’d seen in the showers (seen too much in the showers, as open as they were, seen the scars on both of the backliners’ bodies which no one talked about), Moreau had his own soul mark – a wave-like line overlaid with a fleur-de-lis.

Moreau belonged to someone else, someone not a Raven (not yet, or not anymore), so Nathaniel was fixated on someone who’d never be his. Was fixated on a man who wasn’t his soulmate.

From what Andrew could tell, few of the Ravens bore soulmate marks – himself, Nathaniel, Moreau, Day, Lau, and Hebig. He and Nathaniel were the only ones bound to each other, and they barely spoke more than a handful of words to each other. Yet any time Andrew’s performance began to slip during a practice, Riko would smile at him and tap his left forearm, right where the soul mark was hidden beneath Andrew’s armband.

He’d grinned back at the prick one morning and purposely ignored all the shots fired on his goal that day, worn down by little sleep, by the memory of Drake’s hands on him, by how he couldn’t leave the damn Nest and go out to drive away the awful feelings inside of him, by the fact that he was desperate for a cigarette and a drink and ten _fucking_ minutes alone. What did it matter if the ‘Master’ (never Andrew’s, _never_ ) beat him like he’d did Lincoln the other day for messing up the drills? Andrew was used to pain.

Riko’s grin was a cruel, bright slash across his face when Nathaniel showed up the next morning with two black-eyes and a split lip, barely able to walk from being hunched over in pain as he hobbled onto the court with his racquet wavering in his hands. Moreau gave Andrew a look of pure loathing as he took his place beside his partner, and Nathaniel ignored Andrew the entire ‘day’.

Despite his many faults, Andrew was a fast learner and didn’t slack off after that. He knew it would only get worse when classes started and Aaron showed up, and had to resist the urge to slice off the damn black mark from his arm, to pull out his knives and put them to use.

There were numerous scars on his left (and right) arm from him trying to make the pain end in one way or another, but none ever took on _that_ patch of skin. Fate indeed was a mocking bastard. At least suffering through ridiculous sixteen-hour days, busy working out, repeating stupid drills and wasting time on an Exy court meant that he didn’t have much time to answer Nicky’s bothersome calls. No, he just popped his pills and counted down the days until classes started when he could see Aaron again and reminded himself about why he couldn’t bring his racquet down on Riko’s or Moreau’s head.

It was getting near the end of summer training when Riko, Day and Moreau were off for some media event that Andrew came across Nathaniel in one of the break rooms while fetching coffee for himself; something twisted inside of him to see the backliner wearing a sweatshirt with Moreau’s name and number across the back.

Nathaniel eyed him for a moment then resumed staring into the mug of tea he was making. “You could be Perfect Court, you know, if you tried a little harder.”

Andrew huffed as he set the pot of coffee back on the burner and searched through the cupboards in vain for any sugar, yet another reason to hate the Nest. “Oh, he speaks, what an honor.” And of course it was about _Exy_.

That earned him a sour look as Nathaniel threw out the teabag. “Ever think there’s a reason why I don’t? Why don’t you try harder out on the-“

Andrew held out his left hand to stop the nonsense. “I don’t care.”

Now Nathaniel appeared frustrated. “But you signed the contract and came here. You’re playing Exy and everything, how can’t you care?”

How could someone be so stupid? “It’s a means to an end,” Andrew said as he pulled out some almond milk and grimaced before he added it to the coffee. “Not all of us give a damn about this stupid sport.”

“It’s not stupid,” Nathaniel argued. “So what, you’re doing it because of your brother? That’s a waste of talent.” Andrew gave him a pointed look as he slurped his awful coffee, suffering through the taste for the sake of caffeine, the one vice he sort of was allowed. “You could have so much if you just tried,” Nathaniel continued, his tea neglected on the counter and left hand rubbing at his tattooed cheek, the sleeve of the overlarge sweatshirt sliding down enough to reveal the mark. “Go on to the pros and Court and… and go _anywhere_. Could have anything you want.”

He sounded jealous and a bit wistful.

“Not _anything_ ,” Andrew remarked as he lowered his mug, his gaze intent on Nathaniel. No, he never seemed to get what he wanted, now did he? Not the home with Cass, the brother with Aaron, the soulmate with the gorgeous face and big blue eyes and bright red hair. It was all right, though, he was used to it by then.

It seemed to take a moment for that to sink in with Nathaniel, who backed up against the counter near his mug. “I… no.” He shook his head as he rubbed at his left forearm, right above the wrist where the detested black mark was sunk into his skin. “It doesn’t _matter_ , does it? It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t mean we’re really made for each other.” It sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than anything. “Doesn’t mean we’ll be happy or fall in love.” He spat out the words as if they were vile to him. “It’s just a meaningless symbol meant to hurt us, to betray us, so I’m not falling for it, I _know_ better.”

It almost sounded like he was reciting those words from memory.

Part of Andrew wanted to laugh – imagine that, someone who hated the mark just as much as he did, who thought it was bullshit, too. What were the odds that it would be _his_ soulmate? That it wasn’t just another sign that Nathaniel was ‘meant’ for him?

Oh yes, Fate really did hate him, didn’t it?

“So what, you think you can just ignore it?” he asked with a wide grin, even though that was exactly what he planned to do (even though he’d come here in part because of that damn mark). “You think you can find someone else, someone who’ll ignore it?” As that acrid emotion filled him once more, as it burned hot and violent inside of his chest (it wasn’t real, that emotion, he told himself) when Nathaniel flinched as he leaned a little closer. “You think _Moreau_ will ignore it?”

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Nathaniel told him, his tone sullen and expression guarded.

“I know how you look at him - even though you’re not his,” Andrew taunted as that acrid emotion flared even hotter inside of him, strong enough to burn through the high of the meds. “How you follow him around like a pathetic puppy. Tell me, does he buy into that mark meaning nothing, too?” His grin grew wider when Nathaniel was quiet. “Oh ho, poor little birdy, yearning for someone who will _never_ be his. I bet he puts up with you because you’re his widdle roommate, his partner, this pathetic child Tetsuji told him to watch over and now it’s even better, you branded as someone else’s pro-“

He ducked as Nathaniel threw the mug of tea at him. “Fuck you!” Nathaniel screamed, his face a mask of rage and fear, of all things. “You’re just like _him_! I _hate_ you! I’d burn this off if I could!” he yelled as he ran from the break room.

No, Andrew never got what he wanted. Though that time… that time it looked as if he might be part of the reason why.

He left his half-finished mug of coffee behind as he strolled out of the break room, past the various Ravens in the hallway who gave him a wide berth. Just a few more days and Aaron would be there, would owe him enough to get his hands on some alcohol at the least to make Andrew’s time at the Nest bearable.

As bearable as it could be, stuck with a soulmate who hated him, who he’d never have. Just one more thing on a long list of what he wanted and could never have.

He didn’t know who he hated more just then, himself or Moreau.

Or Nathaniel. He really, really _hated_ Nathaniel just then.

******

Andrew felt a manic, medicated smile spread across his face when Aaron chose not to sit next to him in the Intro to Biology class they’d both signed up for; he was tempted to throw a pen at his twin’s head before he slumped down in his seat and barely paid any attention to what was a blow-off class for him. As soon as the bell rang, he was out the door and waited in the hallway for Aaron to come out. When his brother cautiously stepped outside, he grabbed onto Aaron’s left arm and dragged him aside.

“What, no brotherly love today?” Andrew asked with a bright (false) grin. “Do I stink? I swear I showered after morning practice.” The other students gave them a wide berth, especially when they caught sight of Andrew’s black and red track jacket that all the Ravens had to wear outside of the Nest.

Aaron cursed beneath his breath as he shook his head, then switched to German. “ _Look, it’s for the best, okay? Just leave me alone_.”

“ _Why_?” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he thought about Riko. “ _Did someone say something to you_?”

Aaron ran his right hand through his hair, which was shaggier than Andrew’s (than his ‘nice’, Raven-styled haircut). “ _Do any of the other students talk to you? Sit next to you?_ ” When Andrew scoffed at that, Aaron scowled. “ _It’s not because you’re an asshole, but because everyone here leaves the Ravens alone, it’s like you’re part of some special clique and they don’t like anyone messing with the status quo even if they’re a Raven’s brother. So just… call me or something, maybe we’ll get together on the weekends someplace away from campus, but I can’t chance losing this scholarship. I’m sorry_.” Aaron gave him a casual wave as he walked away.

Andrew stood there for a minute as bitterness filled him at how easily Aaron cast him aside, focused on himself as always. It didn’t matter that Andrew had crossed the country for him, had risked his own life to get rid of Tilda for him, had joined the Ravens… well, partially for him.

The asshole hadn’t even managed to get hold of any alcohol for him yet.

He was late to his next class, an American History one, but the professor didn’t bat an eye at his arrival even though she’d chewed out another student last week for doing the same thing. Andrew barely paid attention to what was being said again, confident that he’d pass everything like he always did.

Once the class was over, it was time to head back to the Nest, what joy. He ran into Ben on his way to the stadium and basically ignored his ‘partner’ the entire time. Ben was long used to it by then, and appeared happy when they came across other Ravens, ones who would actually talk to the sophomore.

They spent time before afternoon practice working on their class assignments, which never took long for Andrew to complete. He spent the rest of the break reading through the ridiculously long email Nicky had sent him (why did his cousin bother now that he was back in Germany) and glancing through the stats on the Northeastern Huskies, the team the Ravens were to play that Friday. The Huskies weren’t in the overall top three for the NCAA Division I, but they were for the Ravens’ region so it was considered an important game.

Well, by everyone but Andrew.

Practice was the usual ordeal, was Riko acting as if he was the boss of everyone as he barked out drills and plays, as he expected to be thrown the ball as if he was the only striker out on court. It was Tetsuji watching everything with his emotionless, beady eyes as if he was a starving vulture, quick to lash out with his cane at the slightest mistake. It was Nathaniel acting as if Andrew didn’t exist at all.

Andrew was so tempted to say to hell with them all and head off campus to find the nearest liquor store, but he wouldn’t risk Nathaniel showing up the next day beaten again, or Aaron losing his scholarship.

(He didn’t care about Riko or Tetsuji fucking with him, was more than strong enough to handle whatever they threw at him, but refused to let others be punished in his place.)

Instead, he remained in the goal and blocked almost all of Riko’s shots on it just to annoy the asshole.

(He thought he saw Nathaniel smile once when Riko stalked off in anger, but the expression was gone a moment later.)

The rest of the week was spent with Tetsuji and Riko pushing the Ravens to be perfect (or damn near it) by Friday’s game, to memorize the Huskies’ stats and previous games. Considering that it was only the second game of the season, Andrew took to glaring at the soul mark hidden beneath his left armband; he didn’t believe in regret, not exactly… but he had some rather negative thoughts over Riko and Day bringing Nathaniel with them when then came to recruit Andrew.

The campus was festooned with black and red (remove the latter and it would fit Andrew’s mood perfectly), with students wearing Ravens jerseys. Most wore Riko’s and Day’s, but Andrew rolled his eyes when he saw Aaron sport his; the moron gave him a brief wave and a nod in acknowledgement, then went to sit with a group of what appeared to be new friends.

How nice for him.

Andrew felt his lips twitch then tug back into a mirthless grin when the loose sleeves of the black and red jersey that Aaron was wearing revealed that the black mark on Aaron’s left forearm was still a shapeless blob, that his twin hadn’t found his soulmate yet. Ah, so only Andrew had been inflicted with that particular curse as of yet, though Aaron was like Nicky and actually looked forward to finding his ‘other half’.

The fool.

Soon enough it was time to return to the Nest, to suffer through yet another recap of the Huskies’ players and probable game strategy (which he’d long ago memorized) before a quick lunch and then ordered to get ready for the game. Andrew noticed that Nathaniel wasn’t with the team for once, and managed to hold on to his curiosity until he noticed a man who appeared similar to the young backliner (his soulmate) stride along the outer ring; he was dressed in an expensive suit which was tailored to fit a muscular build, his dark red hair stylishly cut short (and lacking any type of curl), his eyes the same arresting pale blue as Nathaniel’s. Yet they were utterly bereft of emotion when they glanced out at court… and seemed to linger in Andrew’s direction for a few seconds.

Andrew nudged Ben’s left foot. “Who was that?”

Ben appeared stunned that he’d been asked a question. “Eh? Who?” He glanced in the direction Andrew nodded and frowned. “Oh, that’s Nate’s dad, he shows up now and then, usually on a big game day. Comes before the game starts and always leaves right after.” His frown deepened as he gazed at his racquet. “I don’t think they get along well, Nate’s always withdrawn after his visits and….”

Andrew did some frowning of his own. “And?”

Ben jumped a little at his question and pitched his voice lower. “I wouldn’t say anything, but you’re his soulmate. You’ve seen his scars.” Andrew’s jaw clenched at that statement. “Sometimes after his dad visits, he has a new one.” Ben pointedly looked away after that.

It took a minute or two for Andrew to get the urge to go after the man and bash his head in with his racquet under control (the fact that the abusive bastard had been followed by obvious bodyguards helped just the tiniest bit).

(It also raised questions of who the hell was Nathaniel’s father, what was he doing at Castle Evermore, and why Tetsuji allowed him to abuse one of his most talented players?)

Andrew was distracted from thoughts of violence by Tetsuji ordering the Ravens to warm up and participate in drills as Evermore slowly filled up with eager fans. That wasn’t entirely true as he did feel inclined to smash his racquet into one preening Riko Moriyama, busy mugging for the cameras and fans, and yet again wondered just how incompetent the doctor was who put him on his ‘lovely’ meds.

Maybe Aaron could get a nice lawsuit out of him eventually ‘snapping’ when the inanity of it all finally drove him to bash everyone’s heads in.

A boy with a heavy stick, a ton of issues and forever increasing anger management problems could dream, couldn’t he?

He was actually grateful for the damn game starting, just because it meant that soon it would be over. Andrew was slated to guard the goal in the second half, and so got to sit bored on the bench while a bunch of idiots ran around on the court.

At least, until a Huskie sub striker (#17, Donaldson, junior) seemed to grow annoyed at Moreau blocking him from the Ravens’ goal and swung his racquet into the backliner’s side, right below where the protective padding ended. Part of Andrew nodded in approval of the nasty and effective blow while another was annoyed that he wasn’t the one to land it.

Oh, and that it delayed the game’s end while Moreau was checked and carried off the court.

It was clear that the Huskies hoped to take advantage of the Ravens losing their number one backliner to an injury, but the team was composed of some of the best Exy players in the division. Hebig and Federov managed to do a decent job of defense in Moreau’s place, so Andrew didn’t have to work too hard once he was out in the goal; he only let a couple shots through, with the final score being 12-7.

The stadium erupted into cacophony when the final buzzer rang out, with the Ravens smug over their victory and the Huskies disgruntled. Andrew didn’t give a damn, he merely wanted to shower then sleep, done with Exy for the time being.

Riko and Day were expected to do their preening for the camera bullshit, but Andrew noticed how an excited Federov went up to Riko before the asshole left and talked to him, a huge leer spreading across his face when Riko nodded.

Something about that expression made Andrew’s skin crawl (it wasn’t the sweat drying on it or his drenched uniform); it sunk in when he was in the shower scrubbing clean.

Federov’s expression resembled _Drake’s_ when he’d come into Andrew’s room at night.

By the time he rinsed the soap away, dried off and put on clothes, Federov was nowhere to be found. Andrew didn’t see any of the male Ravens missing (other than Riko, Day and Moreau), so that left the women and… and Nathaniel.

Shit, _Nathaniel_ , whom Federov would stare at from time to time. Whom Federov would try to talk to, but Moreau always interrupted him and pulled his partner away. Andrew thought it was just Moreau being a dick, but now….

He broke into a run towards Nathaniel’s room, and was grateful for once that there weren’t any locks on the doors in the Nest as he threw the door open.

Federov had a struggling Nathaniel pinned to the bed, hand raised to hit him (hit him again, judging from Nathaniel’s bruised face and bleeding lip). The bastard looked up in time for Andrew to punch him on the cheek, which knocked him aside, and yelped in pain as he was hauled off the bed and thrown to the floor, where his ribs were stomped on twice. Hard.

“Stah- ah! Stahhp,” the bastard screeched as Andrew kicked him once more for good measure, only to find himself pulled off balance by Nathaniel.

“Stop it,” Nathaniel said, his voice weak and a bit slurred from the split lip. “You’ll get in trouble.”

“Like I give a shit.” Yet Andrew found himself unable to look away from his battered soulmate, from the hopelessness in Nathaniel’s eyes and the blood on his face; while he was distracted, Federov scurried out of the room like a four-legged crab and slammed the door shut behind him. Andrew clicked his tongue at the thought of having to track down the bastard to slit his throat before he returned his attention back to Nathaniel. “Why’d you stop me?”

“Because Riko would be mad,” Nathaniel said as he slumped back on the bed. “It’ll just make things worse.”

“Worse than someone raping you?” Nathaniel flinched at that but didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes and huddled into a small ball, his black sweatshirt torn to reveal some of the awful scars on the upper right part of his chest, including one which looked like an iron burn on his shoulder.

Andrew felt something turbulent scour through his chest at the sight, felt it rail against the drug in his blood, and spun around on his left heel then stalked into the small bathroom attached to the room where he wet a couple washcloths with cold water and grabbed a towel. When he returned to the bedroom, Nathaniel watched him with a wary gaze as he approached the bed.

“For your face,” he said as he held out the washcloths. “You might want to do something about the swelling.”

Nathaniel was still for a few seconds before he uncoiled enough to accept them. “Jean will-“ He winced when he must have realized that his partner was stuck for the night in the medical department.

“Will what?” Andrew prodded as he smiled, jealousy and anger straining at the chemical chains the damn drug forced upon his impulses. “What’s he gonna do, hmm?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel wrapped his arms around himself and appeared younger than seventeen years old. “There’s… there’s icepacks in the minifridge.”

Andrew glanced around and found the fridge on the other side of the room, by what he assumed was Moreau’s desk; when he opened it, he found it stocked with a couple bottles of water and several icepacks. Huh, seemed they were prepared for a few booboos, how interesting.

He went back to the bathroom and grabbed a couple hand towels to wrap the icepacks in, and returned to the room to find Nathaniel gingerly wiping the blood from his face. Once it was cleaned up, he handed over the icepacks and got up to grab the large sweatshirt (Moreau’s) which was draped over the back of the nearby chair and threw it on Nathaniel’s bed. “I’m spending the night here.”

Nathaniel’s eyes (well, the right one, the left was swelling shut) widened at that. “I’m fine! You can-“

“I’m not leaving in case the asshole decides to come back,” Andrew stated as he dropped down on Moreau’s bed. “You willing to be smacked around some more?”

That earned him a virulent glare. “You’re the asshole. And how do I know you’re not gonna… gonna take his place, huh?” For all of Nathaniel’s harsh words and nasty looks, his slender fingers plucked at the sweatshirt he’d draped over himself as if it was a safety blanket.

Someone didn’t have a lot of faith in him, did they? Andrew didn’t blame his soulmate, not with everything he learned about the Nest with each passing day. “Because I’m not like anyone you’ve met before,” he said as he kicked off his sneakers then stretched on top of the duvet.

Nathaniel scoffed loud enough that his throat had to ache. “They all say things like that,” he mumbled as he pulled on the sweatshirt, his gaze downcast. “That they’re special, that they’ll treat you nice, that it’ll be wonderful.” He rocked back and forth once the shirt was on, his eyes unfocused as if he was remembering something and the words sounding rote as if they were someone else’s. “It’s nothing but lies.”

Andrew remembered Nathaniel’s father, the man with the emotionless eyes, and wondered if Nathaniel’s parents were soulmates as well. He wondered if they were one of the pairs who served as cautionary tales, as reminders that not all soulmates had happy endings.

He wondered if that’s what Nathaniel had been talking about when he accused Andrew of being just like ‘him’ when Andrew had let his frustration slip, back in the breakroom.

(Why Nathaniel was so comfortable with a man who _wasn’t_ his soulmate.)

Andrew once again struggled with his drug-addled emotions, with the urge to break things, to stomp out of the small, black-walled room and the Nest and Edgar Allan, to carve off the damn soul mark from his arm and… and the thought of leaving Nathaniel defenseless stopped him cold. Instead, he clicked his tongue and rolled over onto his side until he faced the wall. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

Nathaniel muttered something in Japanese, but got up a few minutes later to go into the bathroom, and several minutes after that shuffled back onto his bed and turned off the light. Andrew lay on the bed and finally relaxed when he heard his soulmate’s breathing slow about half an hour later.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, not when he waited for Riko or Federov to break into the room to take Nathaniel from him.

Nathaniel gave him an incredulous look in the morning when all he did was climb off Moreau’s bed, go into the bathroom to take a piss and then leave, desperate for coffee and his medication (not necessarily in that order). He stopped by his room first to take a pill and was on his way to one of the break rooms for caffeine when he had the dubious joy of running into a smiling Riko (with Kevin nowhere in sight for once).

Warning bells went off immediately in his sleep-deprived head, because if Riko appeared happy about something? It rarely was good for anyone but Riko.

“Good morning,” Riko all but purred as he blocked Andrew moving down the hall.

“Not until I have my coffee,” Andrew muttered as he stared toward the break room, determined to walk past the asshole.

“Ah, not quite yet.” Unfortunately, Riko was nimble of foot and one hell of a determined asshole. “I want to talk to you about last night.” When all Andrew did was grunt in response, Riko’s left eye twitched and his smile slipped slightly. “You may be pleased to know that Jean has been declared fit to play in this Friday’s game, after a couple days of light practice. That’s good because Lev will need a few days to recover from your… disagreement last night.”

Andrew focused his attention on the manipulative asshole. “From me ‘disagreeing’ with him raping Nathaniel?”

Riko’s nose scrunched as if he’d heard something disagreeable. “You’re new to the team so you don’t understand how certain things work. And that’s how if someone does very well during a game? They get something nice as a reward.”

Rage flooded through Andrew, made his hands twitch to wrap around Riko’s throat at that ‘reward’ bit despite the latest pill; he only resisted as he thought about _Aaron_. “Nathaniel isn’t a ‘reward’,” he forced past teeth clenched tight.

The look bestowed upon him was one of immense pity. “There’s so much you don’t know, rookie, including how wrong you are about that.” When Andrew’s hands clenched into fists, Riko wisely took a step back. “But that’s not to say that he can’t be _your_ reward, right? After all, he’s _your_ soulmate,” Riko taunted.

“I don’t-“ About to spit on Riko’s offer, something in Andrew made him stop. “What do you mean?” Was this a way to keep Nathaniel safe? Out of Federov’s reach?

Riko’s smile took on a predatory edge. “I’ll admit, I was skeptical when Kevin claimed you were this amazing goalkeeper, but I’ve seen your ability.” Now the smile was wiped away by something resembling annoyance. “When you _bother_ , that is. So here is what I’m proposing. You shut down the goal while you’re out on court during the game? Nathaniel is yours.”

Andrew was quiet as he thought about that, as he thought about his soulmate being safe. “I can’t always guarantee a complete shutdown, not against some teams.” When Riko opened his mouth to argue, he held up his hand. “Up to three goals, and only during the top three teams,” he bargained. It meant he’d have to push himself, would have to work for it (dammit)… but if it meant that Nathaniel would be safe….

He was such an idiot, wasn’t he? No matter how smart he thought he was, how he’d learned his lesson the hard way, here he was willing to bleed out for a pretty face and wide blue eyes.

(For someone who might be as fucked up as him.)

(For his other half.)

“Two goals,” Riko countered, “and Nathaniel is all yours, no one else is to touch him.” Then he laughed, the sound more cruel than amused. “Well, by a Raven at least.”

“ _He’s mine_ ,” Andrew bit out as he stepped into Riko’s personal space.

There was a spark of fear in the asshole’s eyes before he flashed his usual wide grin and stepped back. “There’s pre-existing claims on our dear Nate, best get used to it.” Riko gave a mocking laugh as he walked away. “You’re so out of your league, _Doe_.”

Andrew brushed aside the reference to his previous life as he stared figurative daggers into the asshole’s back (oh for them to be real). Once Riko was out of sight, he headed to the break room for a much-deserved mug (or three) of coffee.

It was when he was on his second refill when he realized that he desperately needed answers, and that they most likely would only come from one of his least liked Ravens – Moreau.

*******

Andrew stared at the visage on his laptop’s screen; the smile on Nathan Wesninski’s face was slightly smug as if he knew a secret that he wasn’t willing to share, his glacier blue eyes devoid of emotion. According to various internet searches, Nathan was a self-made man who owned several businesses in and around Baltimore, who gave regularly to charity, and had a wife and a son.

He also had persistent rumors of being connected to some unsavory individuals, but nothing that could be substantiated. Most people put it down to simple jealously – Wesninski was a man who’d built his own fortune, married his soulmate and had a talented son. People loved to find something wrong with a man so ‘blessed’.

Except he was somehow tied to the Moriyamas, whom Andrew was slowly learning weren’t entirely on the up and up, his lovely soulmate had a dead look in her eyes which Andrew knew all too well, and his son bore multiple scars, had a strong distrust of soulmates and was being treated as chattel.

‘Blessed’ wasn’t the first word which came to Andrew’s mind when he thought of Nathan Wesninski.

He closed the browser and forced himself to work on his class assignments; university wasn’t much of a challenge, but one of Tetsuji’s assistants checked to ensure that he (and the rest of the Ravens) turned in their work and that they weren’t failing any classes.

There was almost half an hour of ‘study time’ left when he finished with the assignments for the day (for the rest of the week, actually); he got up from his desk, which made Ben look at him. “You done already?” his partner asked, tone a bit envious.

Andrew nodded as he headed toward the door; Ben appeared surprised that he’d received some sort of answer and turned back to his statistics book with a slight smile.

There weren’t many people wandering about the Nest at that time since the players usually took advantage of any downtime they were given, so Andrew wasn’t surprised to not run into anyone along the way to the Black Hall nor to find Riko and Day all snug in their room. Day opened the door when he banged on it, expression confused when he saw Andrew smiling out in the hallway.

“Uhm, is everything all right?”

“I came to chat,” Andrew said as he shoved his way inside. “Not with you, #2.” He ignored Day calling him an asshole and strode toward Riko, who was reading an economics textbook. “With the man who can make things happen.” Or so the prick liked to think.

“Hmm, now that sounds interesting,” Riko drawled as he set the book aside and sat up straight. “What does white trash like you want? An early taste of Nathaniel?” He tsk’ed while waving his right index finger about as if chastising a naughty child. “Not until you live up to your end of the bargain on Friday.”

Andrew had to focus on Aaron, on keeping his brother safe, to prevent himself from bashing the bastard’s head in with the book on the bed. “It’s about the game on Friday,” he said as his grin widened, as he thought about using his racquet to eviscerate Riko and a good bit of his own team. “I want you to turn a blind eye to something for me during it.”

It was Riko’s turn to appear confused as he studied Andrew. “What? The refs can’t ignore you pulling something stupid out on court.”

“Not them.” Andrew reached into the right pocket of his track pants to pull out the bottle of his detested pills. “I’m going to play unmedicated,” he said as he gave the bottle a shake.

“That doesn’t sound like a good-“

“Why?” Riko asked as he cut off Day’s protest, his gaze intent on Andrew.

Andrew’s lips twitched even wider as he rattled the bottle some more. “Because it’ll make me play better, make me fight harder to win.” Because he wanted a few hours where he could feel his own emotions without the manic taint of the damn drugs, could be free of them, even if it was on an Exy court.

An Exy court with his soulmate nearby.

Riko studied him for a few seconds then grinned. “I’ll be disappointed if Rutgers scores a single point in the second half on Friday,” he said before he laid back down on his bed.

And Andrew would be disappointed if the prick didn’t get his throat crushed by a racquet to the neck during the game, but one couldn’t have everything, could they?

Taking that as a sign of both approval and dismissal, Andrew turned around to leave without saying another word. While he was in the Black Hall, he stopped by the break room there and snagged the good granola bars (chocolate chips) and a few energy drinks.

Moreau was back to full practice that day, but Andrew didn’t get a chance to talk to him; the backliner was never far from Nathaniel’s side, lately. Andrew suspected that last Friday night had something to do with it, especially when he was given virulent looks by the French bastard. He’d be offended by the obvious dislike, but he didn’t give a damn what Jean Moreau thought about him.

He didn’t give a damn about much, and wished he could include a certain redheaded backliner in that statement as well.

Still, while he spent too much effort studying the Scarlet Knights’ statistics and past games ( _any_ effort was too much), he noticed that the bruises on Nathaniel’s too pretty face were fading and that the rest of the Ravens (except Moreau) were giving the young backliner adequate space.

Hmm, it seemed that no one wanted to end up like Lev Federov.

Andrew also noticed the narrow looks Nathaniel cast his way from time to time, as if his soulmate was trying to figure him out. Every now and then he would grin widely at Nathaniel, which would make the redhead mutter something in French and stomp away with his dour shadow trailing along. There would be a pain, sharp and deep, inside of Andrew’s chest as he watched them leave together, until he reminded himself that Nathaniel was _his_ soulmate, not Moreau’s.

Then he’d be so disgusted with himself he’d stalk off to the exercise room so he could hit a punching bag until the urge to destroy something finally eased.

Friday arrived, and Andrew made a game out of thinking up different ways to kill everyone he saw wearing a #1 Ravens jersey as he went to his classes; he considered it a worthwhile mental exercise. He was distracted from imaging the guy in front of him two rows down in Biology class being slowly whittled away by razor sharp vegetable peelers when Aaron interrupted him by dropping into the seat next to him.

“Hey, real quick, hope you win tonight and Nicky sent this along for you in the monthly care package. Give him a call, okay?” He set a plain box in front of Andrew then left, headed to where his friends were seated.

Andrew frowned at the ‘care package’ since Nicky sent one to each of them (and why did he have to talk to the pest?), ready to throw it at his negligent brother until he picked it up and sensed the contents sloshing about inside. _Finally_ , Aaron had come through for him; he slid the box into his backpack then proceeded to ignore the lecture.

He made sure to stash the two bottles of whiskey (cheap, but beggars weren’t about to complain) in his closet when he got back to his room and Ben was distracted, then joined the rest of the team for ‘game-prep’ (going over stats yet again, Tetsuji’s wonderful ‘win or be known forever as scum’ speech, endless warm-up and drills, and then the damn game).

He was half-tempted to drain one of the bottles dry first.

Instead, he clenched a hand around his bottle of pills before he took half a one, just enough to get him through the next couple hours, for the manic buzz in his veins to fade before the start of the game. He wished that he could flush all of them down the toilet, but he’d already tried in those first few months to go without them and failed miserably.

There was no coming off them while locked up in a bathroom for a few days, like he’d done with Aaron.

He didn’t feel the insidious, awful artificial euphoria begin to bleed away until well into the first quarter of the game, as he sat on the bench and watched the Ravens run the Scarlet Knights ragged out on the court. Rutgers might be one of the better ranked universities, but they were late in putting together an Exy team; they had a few good players, but not enough yet to be a serious contender.

Ivanova was able to keep the score low, especially when she had Hebig and Moreau helping her with defense. As much as it annoyed Andrew that the tall Frenchman was Nathaniel’s partner, the man was a good backliner and meshed well with the others, and was near perfect when Nathaniel was out on court with him.

Andrew had hoped that as the drug burned out, he’d be less fascinated with his soulmate, would realize how foolish he’d been to be drawn to him, to think that he could- to think _anything_ about Nathaniel. Yet as he sat there, slightly numb but no longer filled with false emotions, he couldn’t help but be conscious of the lean figure dressed in black and red a few seats way on the bench… conscious of his presence and how the young man made him _feel_.

It was something so powerful yet fragile at the same time, such a protective, overwhelming urge, and it was all for _Nathaniel_.

Andrew was so fucked.

He sat off by himself during the halftime break, mentally reviewing how Rutgers had played during the first half, while Tetsuji berated players for their mistakes on court and reviewed plays for the last two quarters. Feeling the sensation of being watched, he glanced up to find Nathaniel gazing at him; his soulmate turned his head when Andrew met his eyes.

Riko clapped him on the shoulder before he stepped out on court and nearly got a racquet smashed down on his head. “Remember, shut the goal and he’s all yours.”

Andrew bit back on a retort that his memory was fine, mostly because he couldn’t help but add ‘unlike yours, you useless prick’.

Rutgers must have spent their break being yelled at, too, since they came back on court determined to redeem themselves, not that it did them any good. Andrew thought of Nathaniel bruised and held down, about him being a ‘reward’, then let his world narrow down to the ball and who had control of it. As that person approached his end of the court, his memory, usually a curse, pulled up their stats and playing style to help him prepare to defend the goal.

That was _, if_ he needed to defend it; Loiseau and Bautista did a decent job of driving away the Rutgers players in the third quarter, then Moreau and Hebig took over for the last one. As always, Moreau put his size and strength to good use to block the opposing players from reaching the goal, and coordinated the defense with Hebig. Andrew didn’t exactly relax for the last part of the game, but he allowed himself a deep breath and the thought that his deal with Riko might not have been so insane after all.

That he could actually keep Nathaniel safe.

He was exhausted by the end of the game - exhausted, sore, covered in sweat and beginning to feel the first twinges of withdrawal, but he’d held up his end of the bargain: Rutgers hadn’t scored a single point in the second half. The crowd roared in victory as the final buzzer rang, and all he wanted was to go shower then find someplace quiet to curl up.

First he had to suffer through the stupid post-game handshake (touching all those people) then the locker room; at least Tetsuji saved the game review for the next day and everyone already knew that Riko and Day would do the post-game interviews. All he cared about was washing off the stink and some of the soreness with a bunch of hot water, and was one of the first in the large wash room.

When he came out, it was to find Riko talking to an upset Moreau (with no Nathaniel in sight); Riko flashed him a ‘thumbs up’ gesture before the prick sauntered away. Intent on reaching his locker so he could change, Andrew figured he’d deal with the backliner later and went to walk past him, only to lash out when Moreau grabbed his shoulder.

“Listen, if you touch him I’ll-“

Andrew spun around and fisted his hands into Moreau’s sweaty jersey then slammed him into the nearest wall; he had to yank on the material to pull the tall bastard down to somewhat face level. “Did I touch him last time?” he gritted out in a low voice so none of the Ravens gathering around them would overhear. “ _Did I_?” When Moreau gave a reluctant shake of his head, Andrew tugged some more on the damp, black material. “I’m doing this so no one else gets him.”

Moreau appeared stunned by that claim, then quickly resumed scowling. “I will gut you if you hurt him.”

There was a slight bit less venom in the words that time, so Andrew took that to be a general warning for show. He clicked his tongue as he pushed away from the backliner. “You’re spending the night in my room,” he called out as he walked over to his locker to get dressed, aware of the other Ravens staring at them.

For once ‘glad’ of the attention, he figured let them find out that Nathaniel was ‘his’ so he wouldn’t put up with anyone disagreeing on that front.

He was given a lot of sideway glances while he changed then walked out of the locker room, but no one said a word. He pushed aside the growing sense of nausea from withdrawal as his body clamored for another pill, for a hit of artificial mania, determined to face Nathaniel as himself.

When he reached Nathaniel’s room, he knocked twice then entered; Nathaniel sat on the bed in a defensive huddle, his arms wrapped around his long legs, dressed in one of Moreau’s jerseys and an impressive scowl on his face.

“And you said you’re not like the others. _Liar_.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow at the amount of scorn and hatred directed his way right then, impressed despite himself. “All I did was walk through the door.”

“You made a fucking deal with Riko for me!” Nathaniel shouted as he unfurled enough to snatch up a book from his nightstand and throw it at Andrew; of course he had good aim, Andrew barely managed to bat it aside in time. “For every week!”

“Every week I manage to nearly shut down the goal,” Andrew confessed.

Nathaniel produced a ragged laugh as he tucked himself into the corner of his bed. “Yeah, _now_ you take playing seriously, when it gets you something, huh? When you get to act like the mark on your arm means you own someone when it _doesn’t_ , it doesn’t mean anything other than you’re an asshole and the Fates hate me and I wish I could just burn it off and have everyone leave me alone!” He’d started out yelling at Andrew but ended up practically tucked into a ball with his arms wrapped around his head, his tone one of misery.

A misery which Andrew understood, considering all the times he’d wished much the same about his soulmate mark, after all the grief Drake had caused him over it, after believing no one would want him because of Drake and the others. Then what did he find? A lovely young man bearing terrible scars on his body and soul who was so much like him that it hurt.

Andrew had hoped he wouldn’t feel anything as he stood before Nathaniel with the drug (temporarily) out of his system, but he’d been deluding himself on that front. The protective urge he’d experienced earlier returned so strongly that he moved before he became aware of it, was kneeling on the bed before he could tell himself to stop.

Nathaniel reacted to his presence immediately; he began to sit up, to move his arms (to lash out), but stilled when Andrew cupped the back of his neck, his blue eyes wide with a mix of panic and fear.

“Nothing but this,” Andrew assured him, angry at himself for causing that fear. “I swear. Okay? Yes or no?” He just wanted to calm Nathaniel down.

His soulmate was quiet for a couple seconds, enough to make him begin to pull away. “Yes,” Nathaniel breathed out, his expression now wary as if he waited to see what Andrew would do next. Despite the strain on his tired muscles from leaning forward, despite the urge to sink his fingers in Nathaniel’s thick hair, despite the growing sense of nausea and dizziness, Andrew remained still and focused on the slowing pulse beneath his thumb.

“Why are you here?” Nathaniel eventually asked as he continued to gaze up at Andrew. “What do you want?”

He ignored the second (dangerous) question. “If I’m here, the others aren’t.”

“Are you serious?” Nathaniel scoffed, then frowned when Andrew remained quiet. “You’re really going to try to shut down the goal every game then come here and only sleep, just to keep Riko from handing me off to the others?”

He didn’t need to sound so doubtful about everything; if Andrew was the sensitive type, he’d be offended right then.

“You don’t snore like Ben does,” Andrew drawled as he forced himself to let go of Nathaniel and move. As he walked away from his incredulous soulmate, he motioned toward Moreau’s bed. “Tell your partner to get a spare set of clean sheets for me so I don’t have to sleep in his smelly bed.”

It took some effort, but he managed to make it into the bathroom without walking into the door or tripping over his feet; once inside with the door closed, he fumbled for his pills and choked one down, then slumped against the sink with the water running until the nausea was under control. He hated having to take the damn medication again, but Nathaniel might object if he spent the night puking his guts out.

When he finally left the bathroom, it was to find Nathaniel beneath the covers and facing the wall, and what appeared to be a set of clean sheets folded on top of Moreau’s bed. Andrew only spent a moment regarding what he hoped was a peace offering of sorts before he worked quickly to strip and remake the bed, tired and more than willing to fall asleep.

Maybe it was from working so hard during the game, maybe it was because his soulmate was nearby, but Andrew slept without any nightmares that night. He woke up when Nathaniel rose early and left the room, then got half an hour more sleep before he had to get up for another ‘fun’ day at the Nest.

Moreau caught up to him later in the day, when he was about to fix a coffee to take back to his room after their morning practice; the other Ravens in the break room (including Ben) were quick to leave, obviously expecting some sort of fight between the two of them.

Andrew gave him a grin as he hopped onto the counter to sit. “Got any croissants on ya, Valjean?”

Moreau sighed as he fetched two mugs from a cabinet. “Do you try to be so annoying or is it natural?”

Andrew gasped and clutched his free hand to his chest. “Me? Annoying? I guess I’ll have to really lay on the charm now.”

“God forbid,” Moreau muttered as he glanced toward the door as if to ensure they were alone. He was quiet as he made two cups of tea (hmm, who might the other be for?), then approached Andrew with due caution. “You’re protecting Nathaniel,” he said, his deep voice quiet and expression serious.

“Why would I do a thing like that?” Andrew asked as he kicked his feet back and forth, uncaring about the heels of his sneakers hitting the lower cabinets.

Moreau frowned then set the mugs down so he could tug on the left sleeve of his sweatshirt to reveal the fleur de lis and wave pattern of his own soul mark – the mark which was only revealed when he showered. “Because it’s what we do, we protect them.” His black eyebrows drew together as his frown deepened. “Well, _most_ of us.”

Hmm, not people like Nathaniel’s father, maybe? But one thing at a time. “You know your soulmate,” Andrew accused as he held his mug of coffee beneath his chin, curious to see if Moreau would tell him the truth.

The backliner was quiet for a moment then nodded. “He plays Exy,” Moreau whispered with a gleam of fear in his eyes. “I can’t let Riko know.”

No, or Riko would use Moreau against the man, much like he’d used Nathaniel against Andrew (had he suspected they might be tied together because of their pasts?). “What does Riko have against you?” Andrew asked as he leaned forward. “You and Nathaniel? Who’s Nathan Wesninski, really?”

Moreau shook his head as he tugged down the sleeve of shirt. “Not here,” he hissed out as he once again glanced toward the door. “That’s… not here.” He picked up the mugs and stared at Andrew as if searching for something, then nodded. “But if you’re serious about Nathaniel….”

“I want answers, so tell me where ‘not here’ is,” Andrew commanded as he poured his lousy coffee onto the floor while he held Moreau’s gaze.

Moreau nodded again as if answering an internal question. “Later. Riko and Kevin will be gone soon to play for their professional team, and Nathaniel to work on translations. I’ll let you know when to stop by.”

“Ooh, it’s a date,” Andrew drawled as he jumped to the floor and splashed coffee everywhere. “Just so you know, I don’t put out, I’m not that kind of guy.” He sauntered out of the break room to the sound of Moreau muttering in French.

They were going to be besties, he just knew it.

*******

Andrew was about to murder his new bestie; it had been three days since Moreau had all but promised to spill secrets, and if Andrew had to wait much longer? The backliner would be spilling blood instead.

Yes, among his various character foibles (he refused to see them as flaws, not matter what the shrinks rudely insisted) was his very low tolerance for patience when he felt that he was owed something. And he most definitely felt he was owed the truth about what was going on with Nathaniel.

Perhaps Moreau sensed his imminent bloodletting because he muttered ‘tomorrow’ to Andrew as they passed each other in the hall on Tuesday, which granted him a temporary stay of execution. Andrew grunted softly in acknowledgement, then knocked his shoulder into Bautista, who’d been staring a bit too long at Nathaniel.

The backliner glared at Andrew once he regained his footing, but all it took was Andrew ‘smiling’ at him and the older Raven averted his eyes and scurried away.

People were slowly getting the message that Nathaniel was off-limits.

Wednesday came and at first started off as a normal day; early as hell practice, Aaron being smug about getting a good grade on their biology test (Andrew kept his better grade to himself), barely staying awake in his classes, then back to the Nest for more stupid Exy practice. Except Riko and Day were gone, off to Baltimore to play the next two nights for their professional team (who could keep them), which meant that Andrew just had to wait for Nathaniel to be pulled away, too. He gave Moreau a pointed look when they (and Nathaniel) went out onto court to play in a scrimmage, but the French bastard merely returned it with a blank expression.

Andrew _may_ have aimed a ball or two at the bastard during the scrimmage.

He’d just settled on his bed with a new book to read (sent by Nicky) when his phone vibrated with a message from Moreau for him to come right then to the break room in the Black Hall. Part of Andrew wanted to ignore the summons, but his desire to know the truth won out over his ornery nature so he got up and left his room without saying a word to his partner (not that Ben acted surprised at all to see him leave). There were a few Ravens roaming the hallways, but none brave enough to question him, especially when he headed in the direction of the Black Hall.

Very few went there unless invited to by one of the ‘Perfect Court’; people would assume it was just him getting away from Ben and raiding the ‘good’ break room again while Riko was gone.

Like he wouldn’t raid the break room while Riko was standing in the middle of it.

Moreau was waiting for him with a mug of coffee in hand. “Nat should be busy for a couple hours at least,” he said by way of greeting.

Andrew went to fix coffee for himself. “Translating stuff.” That’s what Moreau had told him the other day. “He do that a lot?”

“Somewhat. He’ll be called up to the East Tower during games to translate for some of the guests there, or to work on documents for Tetsuji or Kengo.”

“Kengo, Tetsuji’s brother and Riko’s father.” Andrew knew a few things.

“Yes, Tetsuji’s brother.” Moreau gave him a considering look then focused his attention on the door of the break room as if to ensure that no one was out in the hall. “Are you sure you want to-“

“Tetsuji’s brother,” Andrew said to urge Frenchie on. “Tell me about the man, _everything_.”

Moreau gave him an intent look as if judging how serious he was about things (about _Nathaniel_ ) before he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he resumed speaking. “The truth of the matter is, the Moriyamas came into their wealth by being crime lords – yakuza. Kengo is the current head of the organization and his oldest son, Ichirou, will take over when he dies.”

Well, that somewhat explained how Tetsuji could be such an abusive bastard and Riko treat people like belongings; they clearly believed themselves to be above the law. “So Tetsuji and Riko do whatever they like because they’re mobsters?”

Moreau wrinkled his nose, which had been broken at one point and not properly set, as he sipped his drink. “Not… exactly. Kengo and Ichirou are part of the main branch, the line that inherits the wealth and responsibility of the Moriyamas. Kengo, as the Moriyama lord, was to only have one son, one heir, but his wife bore two.” His expression grew guarded as he glanced at Andrew for a moment. “She died for that mistake, and Riko was disinherited, was given to Tetsuji to be raised as part of the side branch.”

“Funny, but I always believed it takes two to tango.” When Moreau merely shrugged at the comment, Andrew clicked his tongue. “So Riko has no real power?”

“Not… exactly,” Moreau repeated, and glared when Andrew threw a crumpled napkin at him. “Asshole.”

“Tell me something new,” Andrew said with a wide grin. “Oh, wait, that’s what you’re _supposed_ to be doing right now.”

Moreau muttered something in French while he tugged on his long bangs then sighed. “Riko is still a Moriyama, which means he has money and connections, but has nowhere near the power he’d have if he was part of the main branch.”

It sounded as if someone, a certain spoiled, psychotic brat, might have to answer to his ‘betters’. “And where does Nathaniel fit into all of this?”

It was quiet for about a minute as Moreau stared into his mug then huffed. “The same as I do, more or less. We were sold to the Moriyamas by our fathers.” He looked up at Andrew, who stood there… mentally prodding at that bit of information. “No comment?”

“How the hell do you ‘sell’ someone?” He knew the logistics, but somehow it didn’t seem to fit when one applied it to Exy players.

“Well, in my case, my parents owed a debt to the Moriyamas and decided that it was best paid off by offering me to Tetsuji since I knew how to play Exy.” Oh no, Frenchie didn’t sound bitter about that _at all_. “In Nat’s case… his father is in charge of a large amount of territory on the northeastern coast and reports to Kengo. For some reason, Nat can’t take over from the man, so he was given to Tetsuji.”

“Nathan Wesninski,” Andrew said as he remembered the redhead with the soulless eyes, the businessman with all the ‘interesting’ rumors.

Moreau nodded in a grave manner. “Yes, Nathan Wesninski, the Butcher of Baltimore. He comes here now and then to deal with people who’ve run afoul of Kengo, and often he reminds Nat to ‘behave’.” He shuddered as he rubbed his right hand along his upper left back. “If you think Riko or Tetsuji is abusive, they have nothing on Nathan. He’s responsible for most of Nat’s scars.”

Most, but not all.

Andrew thought about what he’d been told, about someone thinking they _owned_ his soulmate, that they could abuse him with impunity, and ‘smiled’. “No one owns Nathaniel.”

“Including you?” Moreau dared to ask as he set the mug aside, his expression blank as his obnoxiously tall body coiled with tension, coiled as if ready to launch itself at Andrew.

Andrew clicked his tongue at that bit of nonsense. “Did I stutter?” he asked, each word enunciated slowly. “No. One. Owns. Nathaniel. Do I need to learn sign language or that mumbled slurring you call French so you’ll understand better?”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who grunts out _German_ ,” Moreau snapped, as if he couldn’t think of anything more offensive, but he’d relaxed against the counter.

Whatever. If Andrew was a lesser person, he’d be rolling his eyes right then instead of shoving the good granola bars, packets of honey (it was some type of sugar), and energy drinks into the pockets of his hoodie and track pants. “Anything else I need to know? Moriyamas are mobsters and bad, Nathaniel’s father is a serial killer and really bad, and Riko is under the mistaken belief he owns the two of you.”

There was a brief muttering of French again before Moreau shook his head. “That’s it. But be aware that since Riko feels he owns Nat, he probably believes that extends to you.” He rubbed the soul mark hidden beneath the sleeve of his black hoodie, his expression neutral but grey eyes bleak.

Oh, just let Riko try to put a leash on him and lead him around, Andrew would wrap it around the prick’s neck and strangle him with it. He was about to leave the room when something occurred to him. “Does Riko only give Nathaniel out for ‘rewards’?”

He knew the answer as soon as Moreau’s expression shut down, as the backliner wrapped his arms around himself as if to shield himself from someone. “Why do you care?”

Andrew _could_ say because Moreau was Nathaniel’s partner and as much as it galled him, _Nathaniel_ cared about the French bastard. He _could_ say that he knew what it felt like to have unwanted hands and mouths and worse on him, to be used without a care (except he wouldn’t, not to someone he barely trusted). He could say because he needed to know exactly how bad it was with Riko’s power games.

Yet all he did was give the backliner a two-fingered salute before he walked away, well aware that _he_ wouldn’t answer if asked a similar question.

Ben gave him an expectant look when he returned to their room, so Andrew threw him an energy drink and granola bar which his partner caught with a wide grin.

Nathaniel appeared tired during practice on Thursday, but didn’t move as if he’d been injured in any manner. He smiled at Moreau as usual and talked to a few of the Ravens (the ones who didn’t look at him as if he was a piece of meat), and gave Andrew a puzzled look now and then as if he was trying to figure him out.

Good luck with that.

Friday, Aaron bumped into Andrew as they left Biology class and muttered ‘don’t lose, I’ve bet a bundle on you’ on his way out the door, which made Andrew want to lose the game on purpose until he remembered _Nathaniel_. Nathaniel, who sat in the seat in front of him on the bus as they traveled to WVU for their latest game. Nathaniel, who peaked over the seat to frown at him. “That… doesn’t look like an English assignment to me.” He motioned to the current wolf shifter ‘romance’ novel Andrew was reading as a diversion.

“It’s not.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel went a whole fifteen seconds (nibbling on his full bottom lip the entire time, which did _nothing_ to Andrew to watch, **_nothing_** ). “What does ‘omega’ mean?”

Oh no, Andrew wasn’t having an A/B/O discussion with his soul mate on a crowded bus. _No_. “Going to cheer us on as we defeat the Mountaineers?”

Nathaniel frowned as he ran his long, slender fingers (which Andrew didn’t think about at all, about them on his- he didn’t think of them _AT ALL_ ) along the top of the seat. “I wish the Master would’ve let me play this year, I’m more than ready. And you shouldn’t have a problem tonight, they’re weak on their offense, they act tough but they crumble if you don’t back down in four seconds.”

Andrew listened as his soulmate went over a concise review of the Mountaineers that was better than what he’d suffered through in the past week, mindful to pay attention to the few players Nathaniel singled out. When his soulmate finished his summary of the other team, Andrew gave him a solemn nod and a quiet ‘thank you’, which made Nathaniel blink at him and a slight blush spread across his sharp cheekbones before he muttered something and ducked back down in his seat.

That allowed Andrew to finish his wolf shifter book (light on the plot, which was why he liked the books – he could finish them in a few hours without much brain cells involved and have a bit of twisted amusement over its ridiculousness).

At least it wasn’t a long drive to WVU, a campus known for its partying which somehow, Andrew doubted the Ravens would be allowed to join in; Tetsuji made sure to segregate the team from the rest of the university as soon as they arrived and set them up to practice on the court once they were in uniform.

Someone had no sense of adventure.

At least he got to watch Nathaniel stretch with the rest of the team (he was still trying to figure out if it was a good or bad thing that his soulmate was so damn flexible) and do drills before he retreated to the sidelines. That was around when Riko and Kevin came back from dealing with the press, and Riko made sure to hold up two fingers to Andrew as he walked past.

Such a shame Andrew didn’t have anything sharp in hand at the moment to shove into the bastard’s throat.

What he did have was a growing clarity as the drug-fueled mania slowly faded away (yet how odd, the urge to kill Riko still remained); he watched the first half of the game against the Mountaineers all too aware of Nathaniel sitting next to him on the bench, lean body twitching each time the Ravens scored a goal or lost possession of the ball. Nathaniel smiled, slight but pleased, whenever Moreau successfully blocked a Mountaineer, and glared when his partner took a rough hit.

He nearly jumped in his seat when Andrew cleared his throat. “Yeah, weak in offense.”

Nathaniel turned toward him, a slight frown on his face, and for a moment Andrew thought he wouldn’t speak. “Most of them. Peters’ being rougher than usual tonight.”

He was the one trying to take down Moreau. “Cheng’s trying to fake out Ivanova into thinking he’s shooting for the top of the goal then going lower.” The striker had done that twice so far, and gotten past the goalie once.

That slight smile appeared once more on Nathaniel’s lovely face (not that Andrew had any real opinion on how the redhead looked or anything). “You noticed that?”

Andrew clicked his tongue and forced his attention back onto the game. “I just spend my time in a box waiting for people to throw balls in my direction. Not like I do any real work out there.”

“Of course,” Nathaniel murmured, but he sounded amused for some reason.

The first quarter ended, which meant that Moreau was swapped out for Federov, which also meant that Nathaniel took to speaking quietly with his partner in Japanese until halftime.

Perhaps it was the lack of drugs in his system, perhaps it was knowing that Moreau was concerned about his own soulmate (the fear of Riko finding out who he was), but as he glanced at the two backliners out of the corner of his eye… there was evident affection between them and long familiarity, but nothing to suggest they were in a relationship themselves. There weren’t any lingering touches or glances, nothing intimate or possessive between them.

Yet Andrew still felt a ridiculous urge (which he ignored) to shove Moreau off the bench.

It was almost welcome to be out on the court for the second half of the game, to be away from Nathaniel and the traitorous emotions the bond between them awoke in Andrew. In the goal, his world focused down to the idiots trying to get past him to score a point, which he refused to allow.

(He knew he couldn’t keep shutting down the goal for the rest of the season, but WVU wasn’t much of a challenge.)

Moreau gave him a nod in acknowledgement when the teams lined up at the end of the game, while there was a look of relief on Nathaniel’s face before he schooled it into a blank expression when the Ravens gathered in the locker room for Tetsuji to give them a gruff ‘you did a decent job today’.

Riko caught Andrew on the way to the bus, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes as he blocked Andrew from exiting the stadium. “Impressive job out there tonight. Perhaps there’s something to letting you play… natural.”

“Only so much at a time,” Andrew said as he smiled, his expression exaggerated once again since he’d taken a pill after the game; it wasn’t that long of a drive back to Edgar Allan, but long enough that he’d be experiencing withdrawals by the time they reached campus so he’d went ahead and taken it.

He’d have to wait until next week to have time with Nathaniel as ‘himself’.

Yet the urge to protect Nathaniel as they went to his soulmate’s room, to make Federov and Bautista and the other Ravens who stared at the redhead in a hungry manner glance away in fear was still there, as well as some tremulous emotion when Nathaniel didn’t insult him or run away but walked beside him.

There were a fresh set of sheets on Moreau’s bed when he entered the room.

“Try not to snore so much this time,” Nathaniel said, a half-hearted sneer on his face as he dropped onto his bed.

Andrew gasped as he clutched his hands to his chest. “I have never been so slandered in my life. _Never_.”

Nathaniel scoffed as he rubbed at his eyes as if he was tired. “Right, _that’s_ the worst you’ve ever heard. Such a sheltered life you’ve led.” Then he dropped his hands and had the grace to look guilty. “Uhm, I mean… that didn’t come out right.”

The press had delighted in going on about his stint in juvie, him being in the foster system and of course him being arrested for beating up the assholes who’d hurt Nicky, not that he’d cared at all. “I know not what you mean, I’m just an innocent babe alone in this wicked, cruel world.” He tried to bat his eyes but wasn’t sure it worked well with the manic grin.

Nathaniel gazed at him for several seconds before he sighed and stood up. “I didn’t see you take a hit to the head earlier so I think it’s okay for you to go sleep,” he mumbled as he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Andrew gasped again. “You care for me! You truly do care!” His lips twitched when his ‘dear’ soulmate gave him the finger before the bathroom door slammed shut.

At the very least, someone didn’t quite hate him as much anymore. Who knew, maybe by the time he graduated, Nathaniel might even trust him.

He blamed the drugs for the feeling of warmth in his chest at that thought.

*******

“So, off to some fancy party this weekend?”

Andrew gave his brother a look of long suffering which made Aaron grin. “Right, try not to have too much fun,” Aaron teased before he ran off to catch up with his friends. Andrew clicked his tongue then went on his own way, displeased at being reminded about the damn banquet that weekend.

The Ravens would have their fifth game of the season on Friday, and it was time for the northeastern district’s fall banquet; Andrew wasn’t pleased to deal with either things, but at least the first was a home game (against Binghamton) and would only last a couple hours, while the second was an overnight ordeal at Penn State.

He suspected that Tetsuji wouldn’t let them off-campus to have ice cream and hit a few bars.

At least Andrew shouldn’t have any problems shutting the goal against the Bearcats, who weren’t nearly as good as they liked to think they were. He was mentally reviewing some of their players’ stats when he met up with Ben on the way back to the Nest, who complained yet again about the fact that they weren’t allowed to take any dates to the banquet (‘I mean no offense, if I was into guys you would be… okay, you’d still terrify me but you’re not half bad looking, but I’m nineteen and it’s such a waste of a paid hotel room’).

They studied in their room for a while then went off to practice; Andrew was surprised to find Nathaniel (and Moreau) hovering by his locker, both of them already in their uniforms, hair slightly damp and mussed as if they’d recently practiced.

“Ooh, look at the two lovebirds,” Loiseau called out, which made half the locker room snicker.

Federov leaned over from his own locker to leer at Nathaniel. “What, is Shorty not giving it to you good enough, Nate? You need-“

Andrew didn’t look away from his soulmate as he grabbed the prick by the throat. “Do you have any complaints?”

Nathaniel’s blue eyes widened slightly, while Moreau was quick to hide a faint smile. “None, other than your snoring.” He had to speak up a little over the choking sounds Federov made.

Andrew huffed as he clenched his fingers deeper into Federov’s throat. “I told you, you’re imagining things.” He finally looked at the backliner, whose face had turned a bright red. “See, no complaints. Now go away before I cut your tongue out for lying.” He dug his fingers in even more for a moment before he let go then shoved a gasping Federov away.

There were various mutters of ‘crazy’, ‘headcase’ and the like, but Andrew didn’t care, not if the others finally learned to leave him and Nathaniel alone. “You need to get your hearing checked,” he said as he pulled off his shirt.

Nathaniel was looking away with a slight blush to his cheeks when Andrew glanced back, his red undershirt in hand ( _interesting_ ). “My hearing’s fine. Enough lame jokes.” Once the shirt was on, Nathaniel looked back at him and leaned forward. “Be careful,” he said in a quiet voice not meant to carry far. “Riko and Kev are already out on court, and it’s not going well.”

Andrew glanced at Moreau, who gave a slight nod, then grinned, the expression wide and a touch sharp, as he reached out to pat his soulmate on his tattooed cheek. “Later, sweetpea. Your honeypie has to work first before we can have our fun,” he said out loud to throw off the Ravens still watching on.

If Andrew was a more delicate soul, he might be a bit perturbed, even downright unnerved, by the chilling look Nathaniel gave him just then. “I know how to debone you as if you’re nothing but a big fish,” the redhead threatened before he spun around on his heel and stomped away.

Moreau didn’t bother to hide his smile (a true rarity) as he nodded. “He does, too.” He gave Andrew a jaunty wave before he went after his partner.

Aw, apparently, they’d moved on to the flirting stage, how sweet.

Despite the threat, Andrew appreciated the warning when he finally got out on court, where he found a scowling Riko and a quiet Day doing drills; it appeared they had a contest going to see who could knock over the most cones. Judging from the numbers Akagi called out, Riko was in the lead… but Andrew saw at least one shot that Day usually had no trouble nailing any other time that he somehow flubbed just then.

Oh well, Kevin Day wasn’t any concern of his.

Tetsuji seemed to be ignoring the contest going on between his nephew and protégé, and called the Ravens forward to start practice; after warm-up exercises and drills, Andrew found himself part of a scrimmage with Nathaniel and Moreau in front of him while Engle and Saunders attempted to score goals.

It wasn’t so bad when Andrew didn’t have to deal with Riko, but he wisely kept that thought to himself, especially when he could hear the way that Riko’s ‘teasing’ remarks to Day crossed the line from friendly to vicious. He noticed how Nathaniel would tense at the mocking laughter and the various versions of ‘you suck’s, but for once the redhead seemed to be listening to his own advice since he kept his mouth shut and focused on Exy.

Riko and Day were still whacking balls when practice was over.

Andrew caught up with Nathaniel on the way to dinner to (slowly, making his intent clear all the while) ‘pin’ his soulmate to the wall, a scant inch between their bodies and Moreau a glowering presence nearby. Pretending to nuzzle Nathaniel’s left ear with his hands on the wall next to the younger man’s hips, he breathed out the question that had been on his mind the last few hours. “What’s going on with them?”

Nathaniel drew in a slow breath and raised his left hand toward Andrew’s head, only to loosely cup it when Andrew nodded. “Press asked Kevin more questions after their pro game last night,” he whispered. “He got more airtime.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow at that ridiculous bit of information, which prompted a slight nod from his soulmate. Well, someone had a fragile ego, didn’t they? Before he could say anything, though, he fought not to shudder as Nathaniel’s fingers tentatively slid into his hair.

That… shouldn’t feel so damn good.

“If you two don’t mind, I would like to eat soon, while I still have some miniscule appetite left,” Moreau sneered.

Andrew jerked away from Nathaniel, whose face flushed with embarrassment while he snapped something sharp in French at his haughty partner. “How about you try to eat with a broken jaw?” Andrew asked with a ‘smile’.

“Fillet you like a fish,” Nathaniel warned as he motioned for Andrew to follow him and Frenchie into the dining hall.

“I knew you liked me,” Andrew taunted as he tagged along.

“You have a death wish,” Moreau muttered while he shook his head.

Perhaps.

So did Ben; he gave Andrew a bright smile and a two thumbs-up gesture when he noticed that Andrew ate at the same table as Nathaniel and Moreau, even if he had to suffer through the two of them talking about the statistics of various teams and how best to manage the new drills that Tetsuji had sprung on them. Used to being ignored (at least by his soulmate), he was surprised when Nathaniel pulled him aside after dinner to talk to him privately.

“Be careful at the banquet this weekend,” he murmured while Moreau stood guard. “Riko always has to put on a show, to prove he’s in charge. Don’t give him a reason to do that to you in front of everyone.”

Before Andrew could say anything, Nathaniel whisked himself away, leaving only a feeling of warmth and a craving behind – a craving for Andrew to dig his fingers into dark auburn hair, to brush his lips against a full bottom lip that _taunted_ him….

Perhaps it would be a good thing, to get away from his soulmate for at least a night.

Nicky sent along various types of articles on how to behave at a social gathering, which Andrew basically deleted without reading.

Friday’s night game went the way he expected it to go; the Bearcats played dirty, but they weren’t anywhere near the Ravens’ skill level so were sent home with an embarrassing loss. Andrew once again put in more effort than he liked while out in the goal, but somehow it was worth it when Nathaniel sat next to him on the bench during the game and joined in on mocking the opposing players, when he let down that prickly guard of his and acted like an almost normal teenager.

When he teased Andrew about his snoring when they were back in Nathaniel’s (and Moreau’s) room later that night, when he once again reminded Andrew to be careful at the banquet and (jokingly – Andrew realized that by the way the left corner of Nathaniel’s mouth hitched the slightest bit) asked him if he knew the difference between a salad fork and a teaspoon (one has these spiky bits and one is all smooth, you know) until Andrew threatened to smother him with a pillow.

(He may have fallen to sleep with the sound of his soulmate’s laughter ringing in his ears.)

Tetsuji, the bastard that he was, made the team do their usual workout and morning practice before they cleaned up and piled into the buses that were to drive them out to the middle of bumfuck PA for the banquet. Nathaniel fussed over Moreau and, surprisingly, Andrew before they left (Tetsuji also made them dress in their black and red dress clothes since they were to appear ‘perfect’ upon arrival), and snuck a few of the ‘good’ energy bars into Andrew’s left pocket before he walked away.

It wasn’t often that Andrew gave much thought to the whole ‘soulmate’ bs, but… but maybe there was a reason why he was stuck with Nathaniel Wesninski.

_Maybe_.

He slept most of the time on the bus, and read one of Nicky’s ‘suggested’ books the rest of the trip (it was another A/B/O novel, a sappy affair about a strong, blond Alpha swooping in to protect a struggling brunet omega which _in no way_ reminded Andrew of Erik and Nicky). Once they reached Penn State, Riko made them line up per their numbers and inspected them, demanded that they straightened out their clothes and fixed their hair until they were ‘Raven’ perfect before he ordered them to fall in step per the way they’d practiced (actually _practiced_ , oh how Andrew had blamed his laughter on the meds that day) before they headed into the stadium.

(The prick also took a moment to remind them to be on their best behavior that night, his attention lingering on Andrew as he tapped three fingers against his chin.)

Riko was arrogance personified to Penn State’s captain, who didn’t appear to care for him (or the Ravens), either. Yet they were stuck at the same table as their division ‘rivals’, which meant that Andrew sat next to Moreau while Riko and Day (along with various other Ravens) traded insults with the pussycats. It was almost enough to make him want to stab salad forks into his ears (and _yes_ , he knew what a fucking salad fork was).

Better yet, stab a salad fork in someone else’s ear….

He was picking at his bland chicken breast and steamed vegetables (he would gladly maim someone for a pizza right then) when the pussycats’ captain gave a mocking laugh and nudged the young woman sitting at his side. “What did I tell you? No one wanted to come as dates for these stuck-up bastards.”

She laughed as well, as did the majority of the pussycats; Andrew noticed that most of the players had a guest beside them, which meant there were almost double the amount of people on their side of the table compared to the Ravens’. “Probably don’t even have any soulmates. Who would be unlucky enough to be stuck with someone like _them_?”

“Yeah, tied to an Exy-playing machine that doesn’t know how to have any fun for the rest of their lives, who would want that?”

“How could they even tell which one is their soulmate? All their symbols would probably be an Exy racquet or something equally boring!”

Andrew propped his chin up on his right hand while the pussycats continued to make fun of the Ravens, while beside him, Moreau huffed quietly but didn’t show any emotion. However, Riko didn’t seem to be handling the jabs as well (perhaps because prick knew he was a piece of shit and _didn’t_ have a soulmate of his own).

Normally, anything that made Riko feel bad was a good thing in Andrew’s book, but he inwardly tensed when that _one_ smile came over the prick’s face; judging from the murmured curse in French and the way Day stilled, he wasn’t the only one to realize that things had taken a turn for the worse.

Riko leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “The reason _we’re_ champions, unlike your team, is that we know when to remain focused and when to indulge ourselves. Right now?” He cast a disparaging look at the young woman in the deep blue dress who sat next to the pussycat’s captain. “Even though you and the others don’t present much of a challenge,” he sneered, “we don’t allow ourselves to be distracted during the season.”

One of the pussycats’ backliners scowled and shook his head. “You just won’t to admit that no one wants you.”

That prompted a laugh from most of the Ravens. “No one wants us?” Riko clapped Day on the back, who scoffed at that statement. “When we’re already on a pro team, unlike any of you? When our seniors already have teams offering them contracts?” Federov and others grinned and nodded while more pussycats scowled. “We could have our choice of dates and already have our soulmates waiting for us, but this is work and so there’s no need to inflict so much boredom upon them when it’s unnecessary. It’s bad enough that _we_ have to do endure it.”

“You’re an asshole,” Captain Pussycat snarled, which was the truth but not much of a snappy comeback.

“An asshole who’ll beat you yet again this year,” Riko said with a pleased smile.

“An asshole who probably doesn’t have anyone to celebrate the victory with,” a dealer shot back as she rubbed the soulmate mark on her arm; she was too far away for Andrew to make out the symbols. “You need a _soul_ for that to happen, and it’s clear that you Ravens don’t have any.”

Riko’s smile took on a too-sharp edge while various Ravens laughed. “Again, why inflict losers like you upon them? Since they’re _our_ soulmates, they’re just as driven as us and are busy, but you’ll see one of them soon enough. Isn’t that right, Andrew?”

What the hell was the prick doing now? Andrew sat up, the drugged smile flattening as he gave his ‘captain’ a blank look. “It’s right that there’s no need for him to have to deal with these assholes,” he said, a clear warning in his voice.

“Hmm, but dear Nate will have to deal with them next season, just like Thea dealt with them until she graduated, isn’t that right, Kevin?” Riko sat there and outed their soulmates as if it wasn’t a big deal, when he had no right to; Andrew’s left hand clenched around the pathetic knife provided for dinner when he felt a kick to his right ankle.

“Don’t,” Moreau whispered. “ _Nat_.”

Andrew almost stabbed the French bastard for interfering, almost told him to mention _his_ soulmate’s name… but the damage was already done, wasn’t it? Riko had deflected the pussycats away from the fact that he didn’t have a soulmate, and now the other team (and soon the rest of the division once word spread) was busy talking about which other former Ravens might be soulmates.

Andrew would much prefer everyone was busy talking about Riko’s ‘unfortunate’ death, but was held back (barely) by the clear warning to Nathaniel (and by extension, to Aaron).

(He was also disgusted about how part of him felt a bit smug over how everyone knew Nathaniel was his soulmate.)

Ben took one look at him when they were finally allowed to return to the hotel at the end of the too long night and didn’t ask him to share any of the alcohol he’d brought along.

Moreau made certain to stay between him and Riko the entire time they were at Penn State and on the ride back to Edgar Allan. It was a good thing (for everyone stuck on the bus with him) that Andrew had just taken a fresh dose of his ‘happy’ meds before he received a text from Aaron, who had somehow heard about him finding his soulmate (word traveled fast, it seemed).

There was a lot of swear words and angry emojis, and eventually Aaron got to the point; if Andrew was messing around with his soulmate (he wasn’t), then Aaron was free to search for and have a relationship with _his_ soulmate (when found). Andrew reminded his twin about his many terrible decisions made in the past, about how Andrew had to clean up so many messes, and received another furious text.

/U can’t keep me from her/

Andrew turned off his phone, unwilling to deal with such stupidity at the moment.

He just wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep the rest of the day (actually, he wanted to beat the shit out of something), which was unlikely since Tetsuji would put them through at least one practice before calling it a day, but upon entering the Nest, Moreau mumbled something about finding Nat and went off in such a rush that Andrew found himself following without any thought.

(Just for the hell of it, he wasn’t worried or anything.)

Nathaniel was in the room he shared with Moreau, seated at his desk as he studied. At first, he didn’t react to them entering the room, then finally raised his head from the book he’d been reading when Moreau called out his name. His partner hissed as if in pain upon seeing the bruises which marred Nathaniel’s pale skin, the blackened left eye and split lower lip, while Andrew felt a rare fury rail against the drugs swirling around in his veins.

“Nat, what-“

“Get out,” Andrew told Moreau as a manic smile tugged the corners of his lips upward as if hooks had been implanted in them. When Moreau stared at him in confusion, he grabbed a fistful of black material and shoved Moreau toward the door. “ _Get. Out_.”

“Who do you-“

“Jean, just go,” Nathaniel said, his voice quiet and stripped of almost all emotion except a hint of exhaustion. “It’ll be fine.”

Moreau paused for a moment before he clicked his tongue and yanked his t-shirt free from Andrew’s grip. “Don’t hurt him,” he warned before he left.

As if that was possible; oh, Andrew wanted to hurt someone, all right, but not his soulmate. Oh no, he wanted to tear apart whoever had left those bruises on Nathaniel.

“Who was it?” he demanded to know as he forced himself to go sit on Moreau’s bed instead of on Nathaniel’s desk; he suspected that his soulmate needed the space right then ( _he_ needed the space right then).

Nathaniel was quiet while he bookmarked the page he’d been reading then leaned back in the chair; he began speaking before Andrew repeated the question. “My father was here this morning.” He winced as he skimmed his fingers over his bruised cheek. “Word got out fast about us being soulmates soon after someone posted it on an Exy forum last night.”

Andrew considered that for a moment while his hatred for Nathan Wesninski grew even more potent. “He beat you because I’m your soulmate.” Nathaniel gave a slight nod. “Why?”

“Because… because,” Nathaniel sighed as he got up to fetch something from the minifridge between his and Moreau’s desk; a fresh ice pack, which he wrapped with the towel he’d used on an older pack set on the desk. “He already knew you were my soulmate, Tetsuji told him after you were recruited, he was just… annoyed, I guess you could say, that the news got out.” He didn’t look at Andrew as he applied the pack to the left side of the face.

There were likely one or two explanations for that. “Is he angry because of my past or that I’m a guy?”

The question made Nathaniel look at him. “Uhm, the latter.” He toyed with a pen left on his desk as if nervous. “I mean, it’s not a big deal, two guys being soulmates, but he’s… well, even though he’s washed his hands of me, I guess he still thinks it makes him look bad. Makes him look like less of a man, somehow.”

So he made himself feel better by coming here to beat up his son, what a ‘man’. “My cousin’s father is like that,” Andrew confessed. “Has some weird belief that Nicky’s soulmate being a guy is a bad thing. He’s doing much better now that he’s living with Erik in Germany.”

For some reason, that bit of truth made Nathaniel smile, just a sliver of a curl. “Really? Are… are they happy together?”

“Disgustingly so,” Andrew admitted. “Once he finds out about you, he’ll be hounding me for information because he believes all soulmates should be happy together.”

“Oh.” That seemed to confuse Nathaniel; he glanced down at his lap and attempted to nibble on his bottom lip before he remembered why that was a bad idea. “Jean… Jean told me that there were good soulmate bonds, but I only know my parents and….”

“And it’s not good,” Andrew guessed; he better understood why Nathaniel had freaked out on him that one day.

“No.”

“Nicky and Erik have a good one.” Such a good one that he thought that the universe was mocking him with his own mark, was showing him something so perfect that could never be his.

Now… now he was beginning to wonder.

As the anger gave away to something warm and aching, he found himself on his feet, which made Nathaniel stare at him. “I have to go unpack.” He motioned to his duffel bag, which he’d left by the door.

“Yeah, practice will start soon.” Nathaniel gave him a weak smile. “Back to Penn State for an away game.”

More fun time with the pussycats; Andrew would have to put some real effort into that game, and wouldn’t get much time alone with Nathaniel while off his drugs.

Still, everyone knew Nathaniel and him were soulmates now (for good and bad), knew that Nathaniel was off-limits. He just… he just needed to figure out what do next.

(He knew what part of him urged him to do, which didn’t help things. He needed to be smart about what he did next, and for some reason… he didn’t feel very smart when around Nathaniel.)

*******

“So, uhm, how are things going there? I mean, outside of the games, you Ravens are on the usual winning streak and they’re already talking about you making Court with the way you’re shutting down the goal whenever you’re playing, but with classes and… uhm, well, with Nathaniel?”

If Nicky didn’t sound as if he expected Andrew to yell at him at any moment, Andrew would tell him to fuck off and hang up. However, Nicky insisted on sending him care packages (and sappy A/B/O books, which Nathaniel continued to ask him about and allowed Andrew to invent ridiculous answers in return) and checking up on him, so… so Andrew _humored_ his cousin.

(Or something like that.)

“I should make the dean’s list this semester and Nate’s fine,” Andrew said as he fought the urge to tap his fingers against the top of his desk.

“Hmm, just fine? He’s your soulmate.”

Once again, Andrew wished that he could have slit Riko’s throat before the prick had announced to the world that Nathaniel was his soulmate, even as at the same time he felt a deeply buried hint of satisfaction over knowing that everyone referred to Nathaniel as ‘his’.

He needed a drink.

“He’s fine,” Andrew repeated. “Still breathing and has all of his limbs.” All of his very attractive, very flexible limbs.

“That’s not- oh all right.” Nicky was definitely sulking on the other end of the line. “You could be a bit more romantic about finding your other half, you know.”

“Why? He’s _my_ other half.”

“Exactly.” Nicky’s tone softened as he spoke that word. It was quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Uhm, you hear from Aaron lately?”

Andrew didn’t say anything as he thought about how his twin continued to avoid him.

“Ah, yeah, okay.” Now Nicky sounded sad. “He’ll… he’ll come around. It’s difficult, not knowing where one’s soulmate is when everyone else has found theirs,” he tried to explain. “He’s feeling a bit jealous right now.”

Why would _Aaron_ feel jealous? Andrew had moved away from California and given up any chance of a family he might have with Cass because of his brother (even if it included _Drake_ ), had gotten rid of Tilda for Aaron (who really should pay attention when making bargains), had joined the Ravens… well, partially because of the scholarship extended to Aaron (and partially because of the north star mark on his left forearm).

“It’s time for practice,” Andrew lied, unwilling to talk anymore.

“Oh, okay. Tell Nathaniel I said ‘hi’! I can’t wait to meet him, maybe during the holiday-“

Andrew hung up on his insane cousin before Nicky could go any further with that ridiculous plan, then completed his English homework. Ben had gone off to one of the study rooms to talk to his family, and returned a few minutes before the afternoon practice started (for real) with a disgruntled expression on his face.

When Andrew arched an eyebrow over the way his roommate slammed his books onto his desk, Ben huffed and shook his head. “Riko’s being even more of his ‘I’m the captain, do what I say or else’ self.” When Andrew’s drug-induced smile flattened, Ben shook his head again, that time with more vigor. “Nate wasn’t involved! He went after Jordon because of his performance this morning, and then got even angrier when Kevin tried to step in.”

As long as Nathaniel was all right. “What else is new?” Riko had become a nagging little bitch ( _more_ of a nagging little bitch) as the season progressed, as he became obsessed with ensuring that the Ravens led not only their district but the entire Class I division in points, as he excelled in both the collegiate and professional leagues.

Which meant that he became a bitter little bitch whenever he felt that he wasn’t given his due as the best striker in all of Exy, whenever someone stole his thunder ( _especially_ if it was his own partner) or if he believed that his teammates were lacking. Which meant that the Ravens had to put up with the psychotic prick’s mercurial moods.

Had Andrew said moods? More like tantrums.

At least as long as Andrew continued to either shut down the goal entirely during his time on court (not always possible) or limit the other team to one or two points, then Riko left him (and Nathaniel) alone. Well, the prick wasn’t happy when he ‘politely’ (meaning didn’t shove a knife in their ribs) reminded people to keep their fucking hands off Nathaniel, but it was still possible to play a game with a concussion or broken fingers.

Ben managed a weak chuckle at Andrew’s statement, then they left for practice; Andrew didn’t see Nathaniel or Jean in the locker room, which meant that they were already out on court. That wasn’t too much of a surprise since as part of Riko’s ‘Perfect Court’, they were expected to put in extra effort (to live up to the ‘perfect’ part), but it also meant that a certain prick expected more of them.

Andrew didn’t exactly run out of the locker room, but he managed a fast-paced ‘saunter’ that got him to the court before the rest of the team. He was just in time to notice a very familiar flush to his soulmate’s cheeks and gleam in those startling blue eyes as Nathaniel watched on while Riko tore into Day about – well, Andrew didn’t really give a shit about what, just stopping Nathaniel from getting into trouble.

“Why don’t you-“

“There’s my sweetpea!” Andrew called out right before he used his racquet as an improvised hook to draw Nathaniel towards him; Moreau jumped at the loud noise then scoffed at his actions. “Got a kiss for your honeybun?”

“I’ve got a knife for your belly,” Nathaniel gritted out, yet he allowed Andrew to ‘reel’ him in. “What did I say about calling me that?”

Andrew pretended to think about the demand for a moment. “Okay, snugglewoogums.”

Behind them, Moreau tried to turn a chuckle into a cough while Riko finally stopped berating Day. Nathaniel gave Andrew an incredibly pained look before he shook his head in defeat. “Fine, stick with the first one,” he spat as he ducked his head.

Aware of Riko’s attention on them, Andrew allowed his grin and tone to take on a salacious edge. “I told you I always get my way.” He smacked his soulmate on the ass with the handle of his racquet, well aware that he’d get an earful (and more threats about being filleted) later on, while Riko grinned in approval.

“It seems we finally found someone to tame our wild #3,” Riko taunted; for a moment, Andrew worried that it would set off his soulmate, but Nathaniel glanced over at Day, who had hurried to get the rest of the team ready for practice (and away from Riko), and seemed to decide to let the snide comment slide since things had settled down.

It was the usual Ravens’ practice after that (of which Andrew was So. Damn. Bored); going over the Ravens’ drills (and being caned by Tetsuji for any mistakes), followed by learning a new play or two (and being caned for not paying attention) and then a few scrimmages (and more caning for mistakes). Riko was quick to pounce on any players he felt weren’t up to the team’s demanding standards, to the point that Andrew was certain that he wasn’t the only one looking forward to the next time the asshole left for a Wildcats’ game.

As expected, Nathaniel dragged Andrew off to a table in the far corner of the dining hall after practice; no one paid any attention to him eating with his soulmate and Moreau anymore, while Ben was fine having his meals with Leif and Toby (who actually said more than two words at a time to him). Moreau sat with his back to the other Ravens, which helped to block any curious gazes, while Nathaniel glared as he jabbed a chopstick at the grilled tofu lying on top of his bowl of seasoned rice. “Laying it on a bit thick earlier, weren’t you?” He pitched his voice low so it wouldn’t carry very far. “ _Honeybun_?” There was enough malice in the ‘nickname’ to choke a horse (too bad it didn’t choke Andrew and give him an excuse to skip dinner).

Andrew grunted as he contemplated flinging his own piece of tofu as far across the dining hall as possible. “Oh, did you and Valjean _want_ to be beaten for pissing off Riko today?” It was a bit of a low blow to drag Jean into things, but the best way to prove his point.

Nathaniel appeared guilty while Moreau gave him a warning look for such dirty tactics, which Andrew ignored. “He’s being a real asshole to Kevin lately for no reason.”

Other than being a jealous, insecure prick, but what else was new? “Kevin’s a big boy, let him take care of himself.”

“Kevin can’t fend for himself once off an Exy court or outside a press conference,” Nathaniel muttered, which made Jean chuckle. “But whatever,” he said when Andrew narrowed his eyes. “You done with your homework for the day?”

“Yes, you?”

Nathaniel nodded. “You… uhm, coming back to the room with us?” He kept poking at the disgusting slab of tofu while a hint of blush spread across his sharp cheekbones.

Despite the fact that Andrew basically went to Nathaniel’s room every night after dinner (unless it was a game night), he nodded and forced his attention on his own dinner while Nathaniel murmured ‘good’ and Jean looked as if he was about to get up and leave the table in disgust.

The rest of the meal passed in silence.

Once they reached the relative peace and safety ( _relative_ ) of Nathaniel’s room, he pulled out the German language books which Nicky had sent Andrew (oh how his cousin had been _delighted_ to know that Nathaniel had wanted to improve upon his slight knowledge of the language) so they could work on it that night; they’d taken to alternating between German and French in the last few weeks. Between Andrew’s eidetic memory and Nathaniel’s almost uncanny ability to learn languages, they were progressing rapidly between the two.

(Andrew wanted to know what the hell his soulmate and Moreau were saying all the time – and to be warned by Moreau if necessary – and to talk to Nathaniel privately.)

Andrew sat on Nathaniel’s bed, all too aware of how close they were to each other, as they went through the lessons that Nathaniel had worked on earlier that day and his pronunciation (which was damn good). They were in the middle of a short dialogue (asking for directions) when Nathaniel’s phone pinged, which was a rare occasion; almost everyone he knew was in the Nest, and his father certainly didn’t bother to talk to him.

Nathaniel’s brows drew together in a puzzled expression as he looked at his phone; Andrew noticed how Moreau paused in reading a book to give his partner a worried glance. “I won’t be able to watch the game on Friday,” Nathaniel announced after texting back a response. “Ichirou wants me in the East Tower to translate.”

Andrew felt a wave of… of something dark and possessive and primordial slam into him as a wide smile spread across his face. “Oh, how wonderful, fun Moriyama time. Will Nathan be there to play as well?” He could easily (oh so easily) remember the bruises which had littered lovely ‘Nat’s’ face after his last father’s visit.

Nathaniel twitched at the response, which earned a muttered curse from Moreau. “I… no.” Nathaniel shook his head, which caused the workbook in his lap to slip onto the bed and his dark auburn curls to flash through the air. “He doesn’t… not when Ichirou… no.”

The incoherence was a sign of how upset he was, as was the way his hands twisted in the hem of the overlarge black sweatshirt he wore; aware of how he was the cause of such disturbance, Andrew found himself reaching to thread his fingers through those mussed curls without a thought, to leaning forward until he felt his soulmate’s breath warm against his face, until he could see the flecks of pale grey swirl in those icy blue eyes….

A manic part of him urged him on to kiss his soulmate, to _feel_ something, to _take_ whatever he could – for a moment he almost gave into it, too. Then he noticed the naked emotion on Nathaniel’s face, the odd mix of trust and confusion, and found himself leaning back even as his hand wrapped around his soulmate’s nape.

(NathanielwasapipedreamwasmaybetooperfectforhimbutifhetookhimnowlikeTHISthenhe’ddefinitelyneverknowifadreamcouldbecomereality)

“Be certain,” Andrew said, his voice thick for some reason. “Because I feel that I’m due an introduction with your father for some reason, an introduction where I have a very sharp or heavy object in my hand which I make very familiar with him many, many times.”

His soulmate gazed at him for several seconds as if trying to make sense of the words before he gave up and rested his forehead on Andrew’s shoulder. When Andrew glanced at Moreau, the French bastard shook his head. “I’m putting my money on the Butcher, not a runt like you.”

“He’s an old man,” Andrew sneered.

“An old man who’s used to fighting off overreaching fools. Up your game, Minyard.”

Andrew gave him the bird while he combed the fingers of his other hand through Nathaniel’s hair; once he realized what he was doing, he forced his hands away from his soulmate. Nathaniel blinked at the loss of contact then slowly rose from the bed. “Aah, it’s late,” he said as he walked toward the bathroom.

Moreau waited until the door closed behind him and there was the sound of water running to lean forward and gaze at Andrew. “He doesn’t say much about what happens up in the Tower, but I know that Ichirou doesn’t let Nathan touch him,” he told Andrew, his deep voice quiet in the small room. “Kengo doesn’t stop the bastard at all, but Ichirou does.”

Andrew thought about that as he gathered up the German language books then placed them on Nathaniel’s desk. “Why?” Why did Ichirou protect Nathaniel?

Moreau shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t think Nat does, either.”

Yet another question to add to the growing pile of them, but at least Andrew knew that Nathaniel should be safe that Friday. _Should_. He’d have to wait for a better answer after their game with the University of Vermont’s Catamounts.

(When he was alone, with his soulmate, without any drugs in his system….).

Except things didn’t exactly go that way – Andrew should be used to life fucking up his plans by then. After all but shutting down the goal except for one point during his time out on court, he’d dealt with the usual post-game bullshit, showered, changed and was about to head to Nathaniel’s room (well aware of the clock ticking down on his drug-free moments) when Akagi insisted that he follow the assistant coach to Tetsuji’s office.

He was ready to ignore the man, except Aaron’s name was mentioned.

Well aware that he hadn’t seen his brother in class that morning, Andrew pushed aside the urge to tell the Moriyama lackey to ‘fuck off’ (along with the growing sense of nausea) and tagged along; the rare burst of true anger helped to push back the withdrawal that sunk vicious claws into his nerves until they sizzled with an aching itch that wasn’t _quite_ pain.

Not yet, at least.

Andrew found his twin, bleary-eyed and reeking of alcohol, standing hunched over as if to make himself appear even smaller in Tetsuji’s office with some middle-aged man who turned out to be the Dean of Science. He stood there and listened while Tetsuji basically talked the man out of evicting Aaron from Edgar Allan because of the stupid prank he and his ‘friends’ had done earlier that evening due to the stabilizing effect (what a fucking joke) he had on one of the Ravens’ most promising players, and that Tetsuji was certain that he could find something to keep Aaron busy so such an incident wasn’t repeated.

From the look Tetsuji gave Andrew, he knew that such a thing _better_ not happen again, and that he’d be paying for the ‘Master’s’ intervention.

“ _How could you be so stupid_ ,” he hissed in German while the two men hashed out the details of Aaron’s new ‘work study’ position.

Aaron wavered on his feet while he shook his head. “ _I didn’t- why the fuck do you care?_ ” he whispered back.

Because the Moriyamas never did anything for free. Because the price better not involve Nathaniel. Because Andrew was always cleaning up for his twin. “ _You were supposed to stay out of trouble_.” Andrew had done what he could to keep track of his brother while on campus, but that task had grown almost impossible between juggling classes, being a Raven, _Nathaniel_ , and Aaron ignoring him the past few weeks. “ _Not break into_ -“

“ _You have **everything**_ ,” Aaron turned to give him a look that was pure jealousy. “ _They’re already talking about you making Court, you found your soulmate, what else is there? I’ve got nothing_.”

He certainly didn’t have any brains, Andrew thought with growing bitterness. He had a scholarship to pursue his dreams of being a doctor, he had the brother he’d begged for along with the second chance of a future. ‘Nothing’ indeed.

However, it seemed that Tetsuji and the other guy were finished, so away Aaron went, leaving Andrew to find out what he owed for his brother’s latest folly. “I suggest making him clean the bathrooms,” Andrew said as he struggled not to fidget from the growing drug withdrawals.

Tetsuji regarded him in that flat, ‘you are worthless to me’ manner which made him _such_ a cheerful fellow for a few seconds before he leaned back in his big leather chair. “I know about the deal you made with my nephew, both about Nathaniel and being off your medication while on court.” His thick brows drew together very slightly, the only hint of disapproval on his usually mask-like face; if it were during a practice session, Andrew would expect the bastard’s cane to be brought down on him at any moment. “You shouldn’t need any incentive to do your best during a game, but one can be… irrational in regards to their soulmate.”

One could also be irrational as fuck in regards to their psychotic nephew, but Andrew (for once) kept his mouth shut, considering what had happened in the past few minutes, and considering the reference to Nathaniel.

(Oh, was it difficult, though.)

Tetsuji nodded once, as if pleased by his silence. “Your performance on court is exemplary and has helped the team to have one of their best seasons in years. Upon comparing it to how you play during scrimmages, I believe you were correct when you told Riko that you play best when off your medication. That’s why I’ve had Dr. Gale submit a recommendation that you’ve improved enough in the last few months and no longer need it.”

That… was not what Andrew had expected to hear. “He can do that?” He was supposed to have weekly sessions with the psychiatrist, per the whole court sentencing thing, but one of the very few good things about having signed with the Ravens was, due to the hectic practice schedule, after attending a couple of them, the weekly visits had just… stopped. Dr. Gale would swing by the court once a week to technically ‘see’ Andrew, but that was that, and nothing else was said about the matter.

“He already has; along with the recommendations from your professors and me, it’s expected to be approved.” Tetsuji gave him an intent look. “You’ll be checked in to a local rehabilitation center over the winter break and return in time for the spring semester to play unmedicated.”

On one hand, Andrew felt an odd fluttering in his chest at the thought of being off the damn medication early, in no longer having to take it (in being done with it earlier than expected after he’d found _Nathaniel_ ). On the other hand, he was being _told_ to do something, and while he wasn’t the twin studying medicine, he could do a quick bit of math and realized that winter break didn’t give him a lot of time to come off an additive drug.

(But Aaron had done it, so why couldn’t he?)

His innate nature to do the opposite of what he’d been told struggled with the fact that this was what not only he owed to keep Aaron at Edgar Allan but was what he wanted as well; after several seconds, he gave the ‘Master’ a curt nod.

Tetsuji nodded once in return. “Prepare accordingly,” was all he said before he motioned for Andrew to leave.

Andrew didn’t waste any time doing just that.

Nathaniel appeared anxious when he reached his soulmate’s room but didn’t ask any questions. He took one look at Andrew and got out of the way as Andrew went straight to the bathroom so he could take the damn medication (only for a little longer) and get ready for bed. When Andrew came out several minutes later, it was to find that Nathaniel had switched out the sheets for him on Moreau’s bed.

“Uhm, everything okay?” Nathaniel asked, his expression uncertain.

Andrew took a moment to check that his soulmate was unharmed (at least physically), that the only bruises on him were a couple fading ones from practice earlier in the week. “Long day.” He was too tired right then to talk about Aaron, Ichirou and winter break, too… it was too much. It would wait until morning.

Yet all Nathaniel did was give him a slight, earnest smile and went to fetch something from his desk. “Okay. Ah, here.” He handed over a small bundle wrapped in a black cloth napkin, a hint of pink on his cheeks. “There were snacks and since it was Ichirou… I was able to bring something back I thought you might like. Good night.” That done, he hurried over to his bed.

Andrew stared after him for moment before he unwrapped the napkin to reveal a large chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting drizzled with caramel, topped with a chocolate raven. Despite the slight upheaval to his stomach from before and the fact that he’d just brushed his teeth, Andrew felt his mouth begin to salivate and sat down on the bed so he could spread the napkin over his lap.

The cupcake was delicious, was the best thing he’d tasted in weeks, was a chocolate overload that made him want to groan in delight. Once he was done licking the last trace of buttercream from his fingers, he glanced over at his soulmate, who was pretending to be asleep. “Thanks, sweetpea. Next time, grab at least two.”

Nathaniel made an adorable growling sound before he spoke. “Sure, the more poison, the better,” he grumbled before he jerked the bedding higher up his narrow shoulders.

Andrew began to count the days left until winter break as he crawled beneath blankets.

*******

“So, with all the games in, it’s pretty easy to figure out which teams are in the top four of each district,” Nathaniel proclaimed as he peeled his clementine. “Well, if you’re good at math.”

“You’re a freak of nature,” Jean grumbled, much as he did every time Nathaniel brought up his talent for mathematics.

“Oh, so you don’t want me to help you study for that Trig final?” Nathaniel grinned when his partner tossed his own clementine at the smart-ass. “As I was saying, it’s pretty easy to figure out who’s in the top four. Naturally, we’re in the lead for the northeastern district and overall in the division.”

“What a surprise,” Andrew drawled as he pushed his empty plate aside and tried not to stare when his soulmate licked a drop of juice from his right thumb.

_Tried_ not to.

“Hmm, yes, I’m sure no one will be shocked when Tetsuji announces that fact this Saturday at the banquet. Nor will anyone be surprised when they find out that the Trojans are in first place for the southwestern district.” He seemed to be staring straight at Jean as he said that, while his partner was intently focused on aligning his chopstick a certain way on his food tray.

Jean cleared his throat before he spoke. “They are the second-best team in the division.”

“Yes, and their new captain is very talented.”

“He’s… not too bad.”

Andrew suspected that he was missing something – at least until he caught the way Jean’s right hand rubbed over the soulmate mark hidden beneath the sleeve of his shirt; he remembered the backliner telling him that his soulmate played Exy, too. Andrew clicked his tongue as he reached over to steal a slice of Nathaniel’s fruit, which prompted a pout from his own soulmate that _wasn’t_ adorable at all. “ _Is he as much an asshole as ours_?” he asked in French.

“ _Ple-ah, come on_.” A slight flush colored Nathaniel’s cheekbones as he caught himself in time; he’d noticed that Andrew didn’t care for the word ‘please’ and so avoided it in any language he spoke. “ _He’s a **Trojan**. He probably doesn’t even know how to spell the word, he’s so **good**_.” He wrinkled his upturned nose at the end as if saying something foul.

“ _Which is why you’ll never be a Trojan, you little demon_ ,” Jean told his partner.

“ _I never wanted to be_ ,” Nathaniel declared as he threw a piece of clementine peel across the table.

Andrew propped his chin on his left palm as he watched the partners squabble, partially distracted as he recalled the Trojan’s captain and starting striker: Jeremy Knox. Hmm, not too bad, though much too smiley for his tastes.

The bickering only stopped when it was time for the team to report for afternoon practice; even with the semester all but over, Tetsuji wasn’t easing up on the Ravens, oh no. Andrew had already been warned that the next semester would be brutal as the Ravens defended their title yet again. He’d deal with the stupidity of the whole ‘must win’ mentality after winter break; first he had to suffer through a little thing like withdrawal, considering that he was headed to some rehab clinic on Wednesday, after his last final.

(On one hand, he got out of the winter banquet. On the other hand, he’d probably be puking his guts out Saturday night. He still preferred skipping the stupid banquet.)

They’d just finished a scrimmage when Riko and Day returned from Baltimore, Riko appearing tired and his dark eyes red-rimmed, while Day was nervous and wouldn’t look Tetsuji in the eye. Tetsuji said something harsh to them in Japanese that made Nathaniel shift on the bench and Jean mutter in French, then ordered them onto the court for the final scrimmage – against each other.

Andrew didn’t need to be psychic to know it wasn’t going to end well.

“ _Another bad game last night_?” he asked in German.

“ _They nearly lost_ ,” Nathaniel answered as he watched the disaster unfold. “ _Kev… was unusually unfocused_.”

Kevin Day, Kayleigh Day’s son, raised on Exy and in the Nest, who was one of the best strikers ever (all right, Andrew agreed with his soulmate that the arrogant, _tall_ bastard was _the_ best, not that he’d ever tell _Nat_ that) was ‘unfocused’? Hmm, somehow Andrew suspected that it had to do with the growing rumors that Day was holding back because of Riko (was _held back_ because of Riko). Someone took their #2 status a bit too much to heart.

Or they knew how vicious someone could be if they believed their precious status as #1 was threatened….

Not that Andrew gave a shit (he didn’t give a shit about much in general), but a certain soulmate watched on with a stiffening back and clenched fists as Riko, Federov and Johnson slammed Day around, as they tripped him up and knocked him down, jabbed the butt of their racquets into his padded ribs while Tetsuji turned a blind eye to it all.

The scrimmage finally ended with Riko’s ‘team’ winning by six points and Day on his knees gasping for air; Tetsuji nodded in approval at his smug prick of a nephew. Right away, Nathaniel was on his feet, his blue eyes bright with righteous indignation and cheeks flushed with anger, and actually got a couple steps away from the bench before Andrew realized that the idiot was about to cause a world of trouble.

He managed a word or two of Japanese before Andrew charged forward, grabbed his fool of a soulmate by the waist and heaved him over his shoulder (thankful that Nathaniel was on the lean side). “What the- put me down!”

“Ah, ah, sweetpea, practice is over and now you’re mine.” He nodded to Tetsuji, who gave him that ‘you’re a bug unworthy of my attention’ gaze and smacked Nathaniel’s ass to make him stop squirming. “I told you that you have to listen to what I say, time to reinforce the lessons.” That seemed to prevent Riko from going all ‘king’ on them for disrupting what was _technically_ the last two minutes of practice; the prick laughed and called out suggestions for how Andrew could punish Nathaniel, while Day appeared grateful to have the attention turned away from _him_.

Jean gave Andrew an intent look as he headed for the Nest, but a slight nod from Andrew made him relax; he had to have worried about the trouble Nathaniel was about to drag him into, yet he still wanted to make sure that his partner wasn’t going to be harmed. Andrew would call him a fool, too, but he knew that Jean also considered Day a friend.

Scratch that, Jean was indeed a fool.

He smacked Nathaniel’s pert ass again (no, don’t think that) and got a fresh spate of insults for his troubles (in Japanese, of course, since he didn’t know the language – Nathaniel wasn’t a total idiot). Andrew bypassed the locker room and kept on until he found an unlocked door to a suitably uncluttered storage closet (just a few ladders and boxes of lightbulbs); he dumped a squirming Nathaniel onto his feet (more or less) and locked the door behind them.

Nathaniel (as always) was quick to regain his footing; he pulled his disheveled jersey down to cover the bare slip of abdomen then pushed back the damp auburn curls falling onto his flushed face as he glared. “What the hell are you thinking?”

Andrew leaned against the locked door as he gazed at his furious soulmate (dammit, did Nathaniel have to look even _more_ gorgeous when he was angry?) “I don’t know,” he drawled as he folded his arms across his chest. “That I was preventing you from doing something stupid enough to earn both you _and Jean_ a bad enough beating that you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow? Hmm?”

Mention of his partner made Nathaniel jerk back and then duck his head, the fire in him slowly sputtering out; Andrew would feel bad about that except that he didn’t believe in guilt and that everything he’d said was the truth. “I… dammit, I was trying to protect Kevin,” he said in a quieter voice, the heat of anger all but gone.

“Kevin is a big boy,” Andrew repeated for the fifty-eighth time. “Worry about yourself and Jean.” And him, because he wouldn’t allow Nathaniel to be such a suicidal fool.

Especially when he’d soon be gone for a couple weeks.

Nathaniel was quiet for a moment as he nibbled on his full bottom lip before he shrugged. “But… never mind.” His expression became closed off as he edged toward the other side of the closet, as far away from Andrew as possible.

Over the course of the semester, they had… well, they had grown comfortable in each other’s presence, had let down their guards somewhat. They were able to be close to each other, to spend the night in the same room and actually rest, to have their little jokes, to tease each other… but they still had their secrets, didn’t they? Andrew got most of his knowledge about his soulmate from Jean and others, while Nathaniel… well, he hadn’t told Nathaniel too much, had he?

He clicked his tongue as he dropped his arms to his sides. “Look, why don’t we try something new? You tell me something true, something you’re willing to give up, and I’ll tell you a truth in return.” He gazed at his soulmate steadily, as if he hadn’t offered something so ridiculous, something so… so intimate and… and… and ridiculous.

Yet after a few seconds, Nathaniel smiled and nodded. “Okay. So, uhm, who goes first?”

Andrew slumped against the wall for some reason and let out a slow breath. “You can ask first.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel did more of the lip nibbling thing (which did _not_ help considering that they were enclosed in a small space and Andrew wanted to reach out to pull his soulmate close and- _not helping_ ) before he spoke. “Why did you agree to go off to rehab over winter break?”

Oh. Okay, that wasn’t bad. “Because I was put on the drugs against my will, they don’t do shit for me except jerk my emotions around, so I’ll jump at a chance to get off them early.” His grin widened even more as he flashed his hands in the air in a ‘ta-da’ manner. “I know I’m so much fun this way, but hyper Andrew is going bye-bye.”

“I… like you better without them. The drugs. Uhm.” Nathaniel ducked his head again, but not before Andrew caught a hint of blush on his cheeks. “So, your turn?”

Andrew shoved his hands behind his back before he did something stupid (like stroke his fingers over those warm cheeks). “Why are you willing to get into so much trouble for Day?” Why did he try to step in for someone he barely talked to- was it because they shared the same ugly tattoo?

“Ah.” Nathaniel looked at him again, his expression thoughtful. “You… you’ve only been here a few months,” he said as he toyed with the hem of his Ravens’ jersey. “When I first came here, Riko wasn’t so bad and Kev helped me out a lot, showed me what to do and not to do.”

“Did he get you to keep your mouth shut?”

The slight, amused smile which always made something warm spark inside of Andrew’s chest curled on Nathaniel’s lips at the improbable question. “He tried, but….” Nathaniel gave a one shoulder shrug. “It was the three of us for a while, and then Jean showed up. Even then, all of us were young enough that Riko didn’t pull away entirely, not for another year or two.” His smile faded as he recalled the past. “Then he became determined to make us know our place, to show us the difference between heirs and belongings.” He gave an unconscious rub along his abdomen, which was littered with knife scars.

“Kev still talked to us and tried to help, but the partner bond with Riko gradually grew tighter and he didn’t have much free time to spare. That would have been fine, but the last year or two… well, you’ve seen it,” Nathaniel said as he gazed at Andrew. “Riko treats Kev more like a threat than a partner and brother.”

“So you think you owe it to him to try to defend him?”

Nathaniel shrugged again. “He stepped in for me in the past.”

Andrew slowly reached out to tug on his soulmate’s jersey. “Does Riko take a knife to him if he fights back? Give him to Federov as a treat?” He hated to bring that up, but he’d learned that Nathaniel was so damn stubborn and willing to martyr himself for those he considered friends.

(That wasn’t familiar at all.)

There was a flash of hurt in those pretty blue eyes for a moment, but Nathaniel didn’t bat his hand away. “No, nothing so permanent for Kevin, unless you count the emotional damage.”

Count on Riko to cover all his options when it came to abuse; Day could appear arrogant and confident as hell in front of a camera or out in public, but Andrew had to admit that anymore, he was a quiet, rather faded presence around his partner when at the Nest.

“Then don’t rush to his defense and give Riko an excuse to hurt another person,” Andrew said as he tugged on his soulmate’s jersey again. “You’re supposed to have some brains, use them for once.” He clicked his tongue then let go.

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes as he straightened his jersey. “And did you think things through when you hauled me into here?”

Andrew was the one to shrug that time. “We’re soulmates and everyone thinks we’re screwing around, _sweetpea_. I’m sure they’ve ‘figured out’ what we’re up to, and it’s not talking.”

“Well then, we better leave now because I’m sure they expect you to be done by now, _hasenfürzchen_ ,” Nathaniel purred as he mussed his hair. “Even with a round two.”

That… Andrew didn’t know what surprised him more, his new nickname (what the hell) or that his soulmate was going along with his little joke. “Don’t forget to limp,” he advised as he unlocked the door. “You know, since I’m so _big_ _.”_

“Something of yours is certainly huge and needs cut down to size,” Nathaniel muttered as he stomped out into the hall; Andrew noticed that Jean was waiting for his partner, along with a few sniggering Ravens. He ignored them as he went to change out of his Exy gear and shower, only pausing when he spotted Aaron in the red-painted hallway along the way to the locker room.

His twin should be almost done with his shift as Tetsuji’s work study assistant, running errands and doing a bunch of menial office tasks on the weekend. As surly as he’d been when it had started, he soon settled into the job, probably aware of how the experience would reflect well on him when he applied for medical school.

(That and Nicky most likely had given him an earful when he found out about him almost being kicked out of Edgar Allan.)

Aaron had, no big surprise, ignored Andrew at first, but gradually got over his latest fit of temper – especially when he learned that Andrew would spend the winter break coming off his court-ordered medication.

At first, Aaron had yelled at him for leaving him stuck with visiting Nicky and Erik in Germany by himself, in having to put up with the ‘disgusting, love-sick idiots’ all the time. Then he got on Andrew about finding a ‘cheap’ excuse to get out of giving any presents that year. Finally, he sneered and called him a wimp for going the ‘posh clinic route’ for rehab.

Andrew gave him the finger each time and walked away.

That day, Aaron nodded at him, a slight frown on his face. “Didn’t practice end a bit ago?”

“Had to talk to someone about some stuff,” Andrew said as he tugged on his jersey, eager to get out of his sweat-soaked gear.

“Oh.” Aaron glanced at the stack of envelopes in his arms as if considering something before he huffed. “Everything set for your pampered rock star rehab?”

Andrew rolled his eyes as he gave his brother the finger. “Yes.”

Aaron looked as if he was struggling not to smile (or drop some of the envelopes). “Let’s hope they don’t mix you up with one of the patients in there for a psych evaluation. We’ll never see you again, then.”

“Fuck off,” Andrew told him without any heat. “And bring back the good chocolates with the alcohol in them.”

“Sure I will, they’ll just all be for me,” Aaron taunted as he walked away.

Why couldn’t Andrew be an only child?

Why couldn’t he have a ‘get out of mass homicide’ card; when he joined Nathaniel and Jean in the dining hall, Federov, Johnson and several other assholes let out loud catcalls over their ‘quickie’. Andrew took one look at the too-blank look on his soulmate’s face then the barely suppressed delight on Jean’s and inwardly sighed. “I’m not a big fish.” Nor was he a rabbit.

Nathaniel eyed him up and down as if mentally deciding how best to fillet him. “Not gonna stop me from removing your spine in one piece while you’re still breathing.”

“Guess you didn’t do a good job, did you?” Jean taunted before he sipped his green tea. “Need to work on your stamina, yes?”

“Fuck you,” Andrew said with a wide grin as he eyed his yet again healthy (meaning bland and disgusting) dinner.

“I thought you got it all out of your system for the day.”

_“_ _Enough_ _,”_ Nathaniel called out as he snatched the green apple from Andrew’s tray (he was more than welcome to have it, especially if it got him to stop threatening bodily harm). _“_ _Or I’ll gut you both_ _.”_

Andrew and Jean snorted at the threat, but focused on eating (choking down their food) regardless. As soon as they were done, they went to the backliners’ room to study for their upcoming finals; Andrew’s were crammed into the next three days, while Jean and Nathaniel had the rest of the week. Normally, Andrew wasn’t concerned about his grades, but the Ravens had to maintain a certain GPA as part of their ‘perfect’ image. Even Nathaniel, who was still in high school and taking online classes (and was expected to pursue a pro career, just like Jean), couldn’t let his grades slip past a certain point.

The next couple days were a busy blur for Andrew, were rushing from one final to the next amidst practices and study sessions. Despite the hectic schedule, he did make the time to reinforce an important fact with a few Ravens such as Federov: he would only be gone for a short while, and at no point during his absence should they dare assume that Nathaniel was fair game. There were some dented lockers, broken noses and black eyes by the time he was done reminding the bastards of that fact, but everyone could still play Exy so Riko and Tetsuji couldn’t bitch (too much).

“I don’t know why they let you get away with it and not me,” Nathaniel grumbled while he watched Andrew pack a duffel bag with a few personal items; he’d finished his last final that morning and would be driven to the rehab clinic in another ten minutes by Akagi.

“Because I’m universally adored.” Andrew narrowed his eyes and batted aside the pair of socks he’d just dropped into the bag which his soulmate had picked up and thrown at him. “Not nice. See, that’s why they don’t let you get away with shit.”

“I think you’re being checked in for your lying problem.” Nathaniel sat perched on the edge of Andrew’s bed, his expression guarded.

“What lying problem?” When Nathaniel didn’t say anything, Andrew zipped the bag closed and dared to reach out to lift his soulmate’s chin to make their eyes meet. “I don’t lie to you.” Not about anything important.

Nathaniel was quiet for a few seconds, then he nibbled on his bottom lip as doubt clouded his pale eyes. “You are coming back, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Andrew breathed out as he stroked his thumb along his soulmate’s tattooed cheek (he wanted to stroke it along that abused full lip, to pull Nathaniel toward him and- no, not yet). “How could I possibly live without the wonderful tofu dinners here?”

That made Nathaniel smile. “See, there you go, lying again.”

Andrew grinned as he (reluctantly) let go then grabbed his bag. “Don’t do anything too stupid while I’m gone, sweetpea.”

“Hey! What makes you think I’m going to do anything stupid at all?”

Andrew merely hummed as he left his room, which made Nathaniel growl in such an adorable manner.

His soulmate caught up and walked beside him as he went to find Akagi. “So, uhm, are you going to tell me what really A/B/O means before you go?” Nathaniel asked, his expression hopeful.

“Absolutely badass optometrists,” Andrew ‘lied’, and inwardly delighted over the insults his soulmate hurled at him; he savored the image of Nathaniel with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, certain it would make the next couple weeks bearable.

While the Mountain Springs Restorative Clinic (‘restorative’, what a joke) looked very nice with its (now dormant) gardens, water fountains, ponds and other features which probably appealed to a more select clientele, Andrew (as expected) spent most of his visit miserable as hell as he went through a sped-up detox program, withdrawing from a drug in a fraction of the time as normally recommended.

He didn’t care if it felt as if he’d thrown up his entire digestive system at least four times, that his bones had turned into molten glass, that acid ate through his nerves and insects had set up a colony inside his head… he just wanted the damn drug _gone_. The first day he woke up and didn’t feel a need to take a new dose made all the suffering worthwhile (even if he felt like utter shit otherwise).

Upon his release after the new year, he was weak as hell, clean, minus ten pounds and instructed not to participate in practice for a week. Akagi didn’t say anything to him as he climbed into the black SUV, just gave him a polite nod in acknowledgement, and off they went on the almost thirty-minute drive back to Edgar Allan. He found himself anxious to return to campus, which he told himself had more to do with leaving the clinic behind and not because he was worried about a certain smart-mouthed soulmate.

Andrew powered on his phone to check his messages, which were mostly from Aaron and Nicky, wishing him a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year (and a couple ‘you still alive?’ texts). Toward the end, there was one from Aaron asking ‘wtf is going on with ur team?’, which didn’t make any sense.

Then Andrew got to the text from Ben, which basically said that Nathaniel was all right. Something cold jolted through him as he pulled up the search browser and typed in ‘EA Ravens’: among the top returned results were several articles about Kevin Day being injured in a skiing accident while on vacation with Riko Moriyama.

(There was no use in pretending that he wasn’t concerned as hell about Nathaniel anymore.)

******

Despite being told not to practice for a week, Andrew changed into his Ravens’ uniform as soon as he was back in the Nest since the rest of the team was out on court – since Nathaniel was out on court. He rushed out of the locker room as quickly as he could, muscles still rubbery from recovery, and immediately noticed three things.

First, that Riko wasn’t anywhere to be seen, nor was Day. Second, that the Ravens were oddly subdued as they stood around watching the players currently involved in a scrimmage. And third? That Nathaniel took part in the scrimmage (as did Jean)… not as a backliner, but as a _striker_ _._ He wore a lighter set of padding and held a striker’s racquet, managed to avoid Federov to score a point – and then nearly went to his knees when the asshole slammed into him after the ball was out of his racquet.

A sharp, tumultuous anger flared to life inside of Andrew to see his soulmate treated like that, yet before he could do more than take a step forward, he found his way blocked by racquets; Toby and Leif had moved to block him. “Don’t,” Toby whispered while Leif shook his head. “It’s almost over, and it’ll only be worse if you do anything.”

“Don’t tell me-“

“Let him get through this and then be happy you’re back,” Leif hissed. “He’s been through enough.”

Andrew stopped trying to shove past the racquets and gave the backliner a narrow look. “Ben said he was all right.” Had his partner lied?

Leif shrugged then resumed watching the scrimmage. “He is, all things considered.”

That wasn’t much of an answer. Andrew ignored Toby belatedly welcoming him back and watched the scrimmage as well, inwardly seething each time Nathaniel was slammed into, knocked down or battered around. His soulmate was one of the best backliners out there despite his small size, and even showed promise as a striker because of his amazing speed and knowledge of Exy. But he had still switched to a new position after years of playing a different one, so his responses were the slightest bit off. If he was playing anyone else but the Ravens? It probably wouldn’t matter, but he was, and the best team in the Class I division picked up on each and every mistake he made.

After a few more minutes, Tetsuji finally called an end to the scrimmage; Andrew wanted to throttle the old bastard when he strode over to an obviously worn out Nathaniel and gave him three strikes against the lower back with his cane then ordered him to do more drills. He ‘corrected’ a few other players before he approached Andrew and studied him for a few seconds. “Work on drills.”

No ‘hey, glad to see you’re back after we put you through hell’ or ‘get some rest, you look terrible’, but Andrew would accept it since it allowed him to be near his soulmate and not punch the asshole in the throat (yet). He grabbed his racquet and went to the outer ring of court, where Nathaniel was already at work on the Raven drills.

The idiot paused to give him a slight yet pleased smile, his eyes shadowed as if exhausted and cheeks sunken as if he’d skipped too many meals, but other than that… other than that the sight of him made Andrew’s heart race, dammit. Ever since coming off the drugs, the world had been somewhat muted, had lacked the hint of mania-enhanced vibrancy it had possessed the last year and a half, but now that he stood near his soulmate…. He felt the same inexorable pull toward Nathaniel that he always had, the same urge to slide his fingers into the auburn curls tucked beneath the black bandana and tug him forward for a kiss, to nibble and suck on that full bottom lip.

Those emotions were real, were so very real, as was the need to protect Nathaniel, to ensure he was all right, to track down everyone who’d hurt him while Andrew was gone.

For a moment, Andrew felt a rather dramatic urge to carve out his heart to put an end to all those feelings before common sense kicked in. Then he realized that he was still staring into Nathaniel’s eyes and decided he could live with beating himself into a coma with his own racquet. Before he could carry through with that solution, though, Nathaniel began to frown. “Are you all right? You look really tired, should you even be out on court?”

Andrew clicked his tongue and stepped forward. “Look who’s talking, sweetpea.” He scooped up a ball and with a clever twist of his wrist, knocked over the three cones on the end to the left. “When’s the last time you slept? Or ate a full meal?”

“I’ve been eating,” Nathaniel mumbled as he completed drill #8. “And… not here.” He glanced over at Tetsuji, who barked out a correction at Leif (who was certain to be caned once the scrimmage was over).

That implied that a certain ‘sweetpea’ would talk later; Andrew gave him a narrow look before he focused on knocking over cones for the next twenty minutes, imagining that they were Riko and Tetsuji the entire while.

He felt a rush of that irrational, potent urge to protect when he saw all the bruises, new and old, on his soulmate’s lean body when they stripped for the showers, and only managed to keep from crushing skulls with locker doors when he realized that they were from playing Exy, that the marks matched up to weak spots in the protective padding (or the lack of it entirely) and not from- that it was from Exy.

That no one was suicidal enough to ignore his reminders before he’d left for rehab.

He wasn’t particularly hungry, so he dumped his slab of disgusting tofu in Nathaniel’s bowl, followed by his orange dropped on his surprised soulmate’s tray. “ _Eat them_ ,” he ordered in French. “ _Let Valjean do the talking._ ”

Jean snorted in amusement but motioned for his partner to eat as well. “So nice to have you back.”

“Considering that I go away for a couple weeks and come back to everything all fucked up? I’d say ‘yes’.”

Jean winced while Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip and slowly peeled his extra orange. “It… it is nice to have you back,” Nathaniel murmured as he ducked his head.

“ **Eat** ,” Andrew repeated as he poked at his rice with his chopsticks and told his stupid emotions to fuck off. “What the hell happened with the asshole?”

“Yes, that,” Jean sighed as he stabbed at his own tofu before breaking it apart. “Have you heard the story about how Kevin and Riko went on a skiing trip together, only for Kevin to break his hand?”

Andrew nodded as he dropped several grains of rice onto the table and began to flick them toward the wall. “Utter bullshit.” Why would either of the young men take time off right before the playoff season? All they’d talked about was how the team had to spend the whole winter break training, not to waste time on some stupid vacation.

“Yes, exactly.” Jean glanced around the large room, but everyone appeared to be focused on their own meals and conversations. “All we know is that Kevin disappeared one night, unable to attend the winter banquet with us, and Riko left soon after that.” He gave Andrew an intent look before he forced himself to eat his dinner, while Nathaniel, done with the one orange, steadily shoveled rice and tofu into his mouth.

All they knew? Or all they could say while out in public? Andrew continued to flick rice grains until the two were done, then nodded when Nathaniel proclaimed that he was tired. He watched his soulmate pocket the extra orange and followed the two backliners (well, maybe not Nathaniel anymore) to their room.

Once there, Nathaniel set the orange on his desk and opened the drawer to retrieve a paper bag filled with the ‘good’ energy bars… and what turned out to be expensive chocolate bars. “Here,” he told Andrew as he handed them over. “I made sure to grab them whenever they restocked.” A slight flush colored his sharp cheekbones as he ducked his head again. “And, uhm, one night they had the chocolate up in the East Tower. I thought… well, I can’t get out to buy a gift.”

Andrew noticed that Jean was pointedly looking away right then, his right hand clamped over his own soulmate mark. “The only thing I could have brought back was used toiletries, so give me a few days, okay. These… these are great.” He reached out with his left hand to tousle Nathaniel’s hair, which made his soulmate smile, then sat down on Nathaniel’s bed as he pulled an energy bar and chocolate bar from the bag. “Now tell me what really happened.”

Nathaniel sat down next to him, so close he could feel the redhead’s body heat. “As you guessed, the skiing story was a lie,” he said as he switched to French. He looked straight at Jean as he tugged on the hem of his black sweatshirt. “What really happened was that… well, Riko broke Kevin’s left hand.”

Andrew paused in opening the wrapper of the energy bar to raise an eyebrow. “Not to apply logic when dealing with an envious psychopath, but any idea why then?”

“Because earlier that day, several ERC officials showed up and had the two play against each other to disprove the rumors that Tetsuji is making Kevin hold back in favor of Riko,” Jean explained. “Riko won, but… I think he realized that perhaps they were right.”

“Of course they were right.”

Andrew nudged the ‘peanut gallery’, AKA his soulmate, in the side (gently, considering all the bruises) to make him remain quiet, and nodded to Jean to continue. Nathaniel grumbled but began to peel his orange.

“All we know for certain is soon after that, Kevin came to us with his hand broken.” Jean winced while Nathaniel muttered about Riko being a fucking prick. “Riko used Kevin’s racquet to break it with the intention of crippling him. We did what we could, and….”

“And?”

“And I called in a few favors from the guards I know who report to the main branch,” Nathaniel explained with a quiet voice. “Enough to get him out of the Nest and somewhere safe.”

For a moment, Andrew wanted to grab Nathaniel by his shoulders and shake him, to yell at him about doing something stupid, something that would put him in danger… yet he hadn’t seen any new cuts or scars on his soulmate (or Jean), hadn’t seen anything to make him think that the two idiots helping out their friend had been a huge mistake (yet). “Where is he?” he asked before he popped a piece of dark chocolate into his mouth, then hummed in pleasure at its intense flavor.

Nathaniel slumped in relief next to him (and slightly against him) while Jean smiled (a tiny bit, but still a smile). “It’s not common knowledge yet, but he’s at Palmetto State.”

Andrew was only familiar with the university since he’d spent a couple years in Columbia, which wasn’t far from the university. “Why the hell is he there?” He’d think that Kevin Day, #2 of the ‘esteemed’ Ravens, would go into a fit of apoplexy to be near the worst team in the Class I division.

Nathaniel and Jean shared a smug look as Nathaniel handed Andrew an orange section, which he accepted with a dubious frown despite his soulmate’s urging. However, when he tried it with a piece of chocolate, he had to admit it was an acceptable flavor pairing. “No one knows who’s Kevin’s father, right?” Nathaniel asked, his expression still smug.

“Big deal, he’s not the only one playing the ‘who’s your daddy’ game.”

Nathaniel’s smile was wiped away by Andrew’s dry comment while Jean rolled his eyes. “Perhaps, but the thing is, Kevin **does** know who’s his ‘daddy’.” He scrunched his nose when Andrew gave him an interested look. “A couple years ago, we found a letter his mother wrote in Tetsuji’s library identifying the man. It seems she had an affair with David Wymack but chose not to inform him of the results.”

“Hmm.” Andrew slipped the last piece of chocolate past his lips and sucked on it as he considered that bit of news – and the fact that Tetsuji knew about Day’s bloodline while Wymack didn’t. “Why didn’t he go before now?”

“Because Kevin worried about the Moriyamas doing something to his father if he did,” Nathaniel explained as he rubbed his right hand along his scarred chest. “Now… now he doesn’t have much to lose and feels that he has no value to the family because of his hand.”

That and Nathaniel (and Jean) had stuck his neck out to get him away from Riko (and the Nest). Andrew once again wanted to shake his soulmate for being such a fool, but part of him realized that he couldn’t throw stones when it came to him protecting Aaron and Nicky.

(That he’d do just as much if not more for Nathaniel.)

“What about Riko and you being a striker?” he asked as he once more nudged his soulmate.

Nathaniel grimaced as he tugged again on the hem of his sweatshirt. “With Kevin gone, Tetsuji decided that I was the best choice to replace him. There’s no chance of having anyone ready for the playoffs, but he’s determined I’ll be trained in time for next season.”

“They’re hoping for Kevin to return, one way or another, but don’t think he’ll be able to play,” Jean explained in more detail. “Since the main branch ‘happened’ to find out about Kevin’s ‘accident’, Riko’s actually had to pay for his impulsiveness, at least a little, and was sent to Baltimore for winter break.” Next to Andrew, Nathaniel twitched at the mention of his birth city, which made him think that Riko wasn’t spending time with his professional team.

“He’s going to be furious when he returns,” Nathaniel murmured against Andrew’s shoulder. “Especially since Tetsuji announced that the Ravens will play without him for at least the first round.”

That was a surprise; Andrew glanced at Jean to confirm the news and clicked his tongue when the young man nodded. “Supposedly, Riko’s too distraught to play, but we think it’s a mix of keeping him away from the press and a punishment of sorts. They announced the line-up the other day, and it’s not as if we’ll have a problem winning without him or Kevin.”

Especially when Andrew would continue to shut down the goal as much as possible, per his bargain with Riko. Reminded of the importance of his performance, he gave his sleepy soulmate a slight nudge before he slipped off the bed. “Unless there’s any more gossip I should know, I’m heading off to bed.”

“No,” Jean said while Nathaniel stretched out on his own bed, clearly exhausted and ready to fall asleep. “You know the important things.”

Andrew gave him a quick salute before he left, thoughts focused on what he’d just been told. He wasn’t happy about Nathaniel risking himself for Kevin Day, but doubted that Tetsuji would wait to punish the fool if he suspected anything. That left them with Nathaniel’s position switch, Andrew and Jean having to work harder to make up for Day’s lack on the court, and dealing with an even more unstable Riko.

Oh what fun.

(Andrew pondered the chances of him getting away with another ‘accidental’ death, but dammit, Riko was rarely alone and highly unlikely to get into a rigged vehicle with him.)

Ben acted happy to see him and filled him in a bit more about the ‘drama’ while he unpacked his bag, sent a few texts to Aaron and Nicky then got ready for bed; about how the fans were upset over the possibility of Day never playing again, and most of the strikers being unhappy about the thought of Nathaniel stepping in for Day next season.

Morning came all too soon; Andrew struggled through the morning workout, determined to build back the muscle he’d lost during rehab. He noticed that Riko still wasn’t back on campus, and so made a point to give long blank stares at Federov and a few others (the ones who looked too long at Nathaniel, the ones who’d slammed him around on court yesterday) as he lifted weights (too much weight, his muscles protesting the entire time which he ignored); they quickly glanced aside, their expressions uncomfortable.

(The pain was worth it when Nathaniel – _Nat_ – sat next to him at breakfast and handed over the banana one of the servers had snuck to him.)

The campus was even more an explosion of black and red as Edgar Allan showed its ‘pride’ at the team heading into the playoffs yet again (as if there’d ever been any doubt), with many students in Andrew’s classes wearing #1 and #2 jerseys and sweatshirts. There were hushed discussions about Riko and Day, but the students wisely didn’t approach him. That semester, he didn’t have any classes with Aaron, so he picked seats in the back row, far away from everyone else, and basically catnapped to catch up on his sleep.

Tetsuji was indeed a bastard about playoff training; their first game was against Idaho State’s Bengals, who weren’t much of a challenge, but ‘the Master’ demanded perfection (‘the Master’ was a prick). Andrew was ‘allowed’ one week of drills to get back in shape, then another week of scrimmages before the first game of the season. So much for following the doctor’s orders, but he wanted to be back in shape to defend the goal just as much as Tetsuji expected him to be, if for different reasons.

(Nathaniel kept taking the abuse while out on court from his own teammates; Andrew looked forward to the next week when he’d be out there with him, to when he would be in control of the ball and ‘oops, I didn’t realize I threw it that hard’….)

There was a sense of anxiety and uncertainty thrumming through the team as the week wore on, a nervousness that had them snarling at each other more than usual. Andrew watched on dispassionately as the Ravens postured and plotted for starting lineup, for Tetsuji’s (positive) recognition, for anything that would make them seem more important. The only time they dared to drag him into their pathetic games (Bautista and Loiseau trying to taunt him about his lack of a smile and insinuating something about him and Nathaniel), he put a stop to it real quick by asking them if they thought they could play without half their vital organs.

(He was even going to be ‘nice’ enough to leave the choice of which ones to them before they mumbled something about homework and scurried away.)

Things didn’t get any better when Riko showed up at last toward the end of the first week, sullen and appearing odd without Day skulking nearby like a misshapen shadow. As Nathaniel had predicted, he was an even moodier bastard than usual, especially when Tetsuji ordered him to do drills instead of practice with the team, a sign that his punishment was ongoing.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he approached Andrew toward the end of practice on Friday with a cruel smirk on his face. “How’s life without the drugs, Minyard?”

Andrew gave him a cool look for a couple seconds before he answered, aware of how Nathaniel and Jean slowly approached from the left. “Less medicated.”

“It’s certainly not improving your sense of humor, but your Exy skills are as good as ever, if not better,” Riko said as he eyed the red cones knocked over during Andrew’s drill practice. “I’ve good news for you, as of now, you’re #5. Someone will be here tomorrow to do your tattoo, and your new uniform will be your locker in the morning.” The glassy gleam in his eye dared Andrew to argue, especially when he glanced at Nathaniel standing a few feet away, but all Andrew did was nod once (his hands clenched around his goalie’s racquet).

It was a quiet dinner, with Nathaniel forcibly holding in what he wanted to say until they reached his room a short while later. Once the door was closed behind Andrew, he let out a harsh breath and jerked his hands through his damp curls. _“_ _Why? Why are you letting him do that? You don’t have to be Perfect Court, too! It’s another way for him to sink his claws into you_ _!”_

Because Andrew knew if he put up any sort of fight, Riko wouldn’t hesitate to use Nathaniel against him, and possibly Aaron as well. _“_ _Because it’s just a stupid tattoo. He’s probably doing it to balance out the fact that Day’s gone_ _.”_ To fill the gap left in his stupid Perfect Court because of his own jealousy.

On the other side of the room, Jean grunted in agreement. “ _I agree, he’s likely trying to show it doesn’t matter, Kevin’s loss, when he can still find talent to round out his court_ _.”_

_"Still, it makes it that much harder for Andrew to get away if he’s Perfect Court. You know Riko will think he can plan his entire Exy career now_ ,” Nathaniel snapped.

As if Riko didn’t already have a leash on him; as long as the prick had control of Nathaniel, Andrew would ‘behave’ until he figured out a way to break his soulmate free. “At least I should get a better pro contract this way,” he said in a deadpan manner. As if he cared about such a trivial thing.

“Not funny.” Nathaniel’s brows drew together as he reached for but didn’t touch Andrew’s left cheek. “I didn’t want this for you.”

Foolish Nat, one of the very few people (besides Nicky) who seemed to give a real damn about Andrew; he found himself mirroring his soulmate’s gesture and, when Nathaniel gave a solemn nod, cupped his hand on that sharp, tattooed cheekbone. He didn’t know if he was the one to shuffle forward or if it was Nathaniel (perhaps both), but they soon were so close that he could feel Nathaniel’s warm breath against his lips, could see the flecks of grey in those pale blue eyes, could think of nothing but finding out how soft his soulmate’s full bottom lip would feel-

Then jerked back when Jean cleared his throat in a loud manner.

Nathaniel’s cheek felt hot beneath Andrew’s calloused palm, but he didn’t run away; instead he glared at Jean and barked out something in Japanese which made Jean shrug. “Should I leave?”

Andrew shook his head. “I’ll go.” At the quickly masked hurt on his soulmate’s face, he shook his head again as he gave a light caress to Nathaniel’s cheek before he forced his hand to fall aside. “Nicky’s supposed to call me, and it’s already late enough in Germany.” His cousin was an emotional moron, but what else was new?

“Okay.” Nathaniel gave him one of those slight smiles which made his chest ache and would haunt his dreams (in a good way, at least) all night; Andrew forced himself to leave and put up with a call from his overbearing cousin once back in his own room, who asked too many questions about Nathaniel and rehab. He knew Nicky was worried about him and wanted him to be ‘happy’, but the call left him drained enough that he was grateful to go to bed afterward.

(Even if he dreamed about fending off an army of faceless creatures who wanted to take Nathaniel away from him.)

It was a good thing he went to bed early, because he (and a grumbling Ben) were woken up by Akagi, who dragged him off to get tattooed first thing in the morning. Andrew didn’t think he’d ever get another face tattoo, but it was small and over with quickly, and he received many envious glares when he showed up for the morning workout with a telling bandage on his left cheek.

His teammates’ displeasure only grew when he pulled on his new uniform, but there was nothing they could do when Tetsuji nodded in approval. At least, nothing too overt, not when he was tucked into his goal. Federov and Adams were rough once again with Nathaniel, but a few well-aimed return throws convinced them of their folly in regards to targeting Andrew’s soulmate.

Aaron caught up to Andrew on Sunday, when his tattoo was uncovered; he came to a stop in the hallway and gaped at him for several seconds before he shook his head. “What the fuck. Are you so into Wesninski that you had to get matching tattoos or something?” he asked with a slight sneer which seemed forced.

Andrew gave his twin the finger. “It’s how many men I killed in rehab.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” There was a bitter twist to Aaron’s lips for a moment, yet like always, he avoided the huge elephant in the room (so to speak). “Despite me reminding him about how much of an asshole you are, Nicky sent along a bunch of gifts for you. I’ll bring them next time.”

“Okay.” Andrew waited to see if there was anything else then nodded in goodbye; as he walked away, he heard his twin mutter about how he wasn’t going to be as much of a ‘sap’ when he found his soulmate.

Andrew had already picked up a gift for Nathaniel, he was just waiting until after the game with the Bengals on Friday when they would be alone to give it to him soulmate. When they would be alone, no Jean and no drugs… he felt an unusual mix of anticipation and nervousness fill him whenever he dwelled on it. He’d thought about what could possibly happen between them if Nathaniel had any interest, now that he was off the drugs (when it was clear that his… that whatever it was between them wasn’t a part of the medication), and he had an idea of how it could proceed in a manner which would ensure that they both were willing.

They just needed a bit of privacy and space.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get that chance, because the Wednesday before the game, David Wymack reached out to Tetsuji to let him know that Day was staying with him and unwilling to return to Edgar Allan, that he wanted to buy out Day’s contract with the Ravens, which set off an already unstable Riko (it seemed the prick had been waiting for Day to return any day now). The psychopath strode out on court and began tearing into his own teammates, smacking their legs and backs with his racquet for any perceived infraction (imperfect form, holding their racquet wrong, etc.). For once, Nathaniel was wise enough to duck his head and stay out of the way… until Riko targeted Jean.

All it took was one swing of Riko’s racquet crashing down on Jean’s left shoulder and Nathaniel leapt to his partner’s defense, yelling in Japanese at Riko. The prick whirled around, his eyes wide enough that their whites could clearly be seen and a ‘smile’ pulled taut on his face, as he swung at Andrew’s soulmate. Nathaniel ducked the first attempt to hit him, but took the second blow as he acted like a human shield to protect his stunned partner.

Andrew was in motion as soon as he realized what his idiot soulmate was doing, uncaring about the consequences. When Riko raised his racquet again to bring it down on Nathaniel, Andrew smacked his own into it, which knocked it out of Riko’s hands. He should have stopped there, he knew, but the prick had dared to hurt Nathaniel, had been unwilling to stop, so Andrew hit him again, enough to send him crumpling to the wooden floor as he cried out in pain.

The prick out of the way, Andrew knelt next to his dazed soulmate, his arms draped over him in a protective manner, and didn’t let go until he was dragged away by several people.

*******

Waking up in pain wasn’t unusual for Andrew, not after all the years in the foster system then his time spent in juvie. He’d gotten so used to it that it had been unexpected, living with Nicky and Aaron, when he woke up most days without the sensation of pain somewhere in his body, only to be replaced with the strain from overworked muscles once he joined the Ravens (oh, and a sadistic bastard who had a thing for caning his players).

But this? The stinging throb from punches and kicks? Definitely familiar. What wasn’t? The large room with black leather couches, large, flat-screen televisions on the wall, a fancy-looking bar, and expensive artwork scattered around the place, not to mention an expanse of windows on the one side. Andrew rubbed his bound hands through the plush red carpet he lay upon and suspected that he was in the East Tower where Nathaniel spent so much time.

He’d just started to push himself into a sitting position when he heard the sound of muffled footsteps. “Looks like the runt is awake,” a deep voice called out. “Just like Junior, he bounces back fast.”

Before Andrew could turn around, he found himself jerked upright by the back of his jersey by Nathan Wesninski of all people; the bastard was dressed in black slacks and a light grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He barely had time to take that in before he was punched in the stomach, right where his padding was the thinnest, with enough force to make him gasp in pain, and then again in the face. As he struggled to shove the bastard away, to do something, Wesninski laughed and slammed him against the wall. “And just like Junior, you don’t know when to behave and take your punishment, you little-“

“That’s enough.”

The firmly spoken command made Wesninski halt in mid-punch; the bastard grunted as he let go of Andrew’s throat and stepped away. “I was told to teach him a lesson.”

“I believe you’ve done that,” a young Asian man, dressed in a tailored black suit, told Wesninski as he stepped forward; he looked to be in his early twenties, if that, with a lean build and black hair combed back from a face which was oddly familiar.

Andrew suspected that he’d finally met Ichirou Moriyama.

“Tetsuji said-“

“And I just told you that’s enough.” Despite Ichirou not raising his voice, something in his dark gold eyes made Wesninski stiffen and bow his head. “I’ll deal with Minyard, you can leave and inform my uncle that the matter is resolved on your way out.” When Wesninski moved forward, Ichirou spoke again. “And Nathan? I’ll also deal with Nathaniel.”

Something unpleasant flashed across Wesninski’s face at the mention of his son. “It’s best if I handle my-“

Ichirou cut off the man known as ‘the Butcher’ once again as he walked over to the bar. “He’s not your anything anymore, not after you sold him to my family. You have your orders.” He glanced up from pouring a drink to give Wesninski a cold look, as if daring the man to make him say anything else.

He might be a sadistic, abusive bastard, but Wesninski apparently could get the hint; he bowed his head in a curt manner then stalked out of the room.

Andrew slumped against the wall and watched him go, then focused his attention on the unknown Moriyama; well, that was partially untrue. He knew that the young man was Riko’s older brother yet had nothing to do with the asshole, and that for some reason, he tended to look out for Nathaniel.

That he appeared to be here to ‘deal’ with Andrew.

“What, no drink for me?” he drawled as he raised his bound hands to dab at his bleeding lip.

Ichirou regarded him with cool appraisal while he sipped his drink, appearing in no hurry to answer. Once the glass was empty, he set it down on the bar and refilled it. “Nat tells me that you’re intelligent, almost frighteningly so, and never forget a thing. He also says you’re very stubborn, which isn’t a surprise if you’re his soulmate.”

Andrew merely grunted in response to those facts.

“I know that you’re rather talented at Exy, considering your stats, and that you’ve been protecting Nat.” Ichirou paused to sip his drink while Andrew gazed at him with a blank expression. “And that Nat has feelings for you, because he’s never tried to sneak anything out of here before, yet he’s suddenly discovered a new appreciation for sweets, something he’s always hated before.”

“That’s quite a guess, isn’t it? Maybe he took them for Moreau,” Andrew suggested as he stared at the zip tie around his wrists as if he could will it to melt away.

Ichirou huffed as if amused and swirled the golden alcohol around in the cut crystal glass. “I’ve known Nat for years, and the only time he requests anything for his partner is when we had marzipan treats. No, this was for you, his soulmate, the man who required seven people to pry him away from Nat.”

It would have taken more than that if that prick, Riko, hadn’t smashed a racquet down on his head; only his helmet saved him from a serious injury. “I do it for all the boys who bring me cupcakes.”

“I’m sure.” The right corner of Ichirou’s mouth twitched upward as he reached into an inner pocket of his suit’s coat and pulled out a knife.

“Gonna start on that whole ‘deal with me’ thing?” Andrew asked as he eyed the weapon with care; Ichirou had a few inches on him, but he thought he could take the Japanese man even with his hands bound – at least knock him aside and get a good head’s start.

“Hmm, something like that. Hold out your hands and remain still,” Ichirou ordered as he came to a halt just out of reach. He gave Andrew a bored look while he flipped the knife in his right hand. “Unless you don’t want to have that drink and talk about something that will benefit Nat in the end.”

That… was that a trick? Andrew frowned at the Moriyama for a moment before he decided he could always beat him up if it was and held out his hands. He tensed as Ichirou slashed with the knife, but only to sever the plastic tie holding his hands bound. “What about Nat?” he asked as he rubbed his sore wrists once they were free.

“He told me that you found out about his father selling him to my family, and about what we really do,” Ichirou said as he returned to the bar and poured another glass of what turned out to be a very nice whiskey. “Don’t be upset with him, as he knows better than to lie to me.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that ‘knows better’ part; he forced himself to have another sip of whiskey rather than throw it in the asshole’s impassive face. “Yes, I know.” Between Jean and his truth game with Nathaniel, he finally did know why Riko thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted, consequences be damned.

“Yes, so you understand that my father is a very powerful man, one who doesn’t tolerate weakness, and he’s raised me to be the same way,” Ichirou explained as he removed his coat, which revealed a pistol in a shoulder holster, then he began to undo the cuff of his left sleeve once the coat was draped over the back of the nearest couch.

The whiskey helped a little with the pain, so Andrew poured himself another glass. “I know you’ve a pet serial killer in your pocket, and your dad disowned your little brother for some reason, which has given the psycho some serious daddy issues. Is there a point to this?”

Ichirou’s lips twitched again. “Very much so, especially in regard to Riko.” His expression turned flat when he mentioned his brother. “As I said, we’re allowed no weakness.” He turned his left forearm to Andrew, which exposed his soulmate mark.

What was left of it, that was.

Cold washed down Andrew’s spine when he realized that the shadow-like flower petals which surrounded the sword indicated that Ichirou’s soulmate was dead, and he instinctively reached for his own mark as if to confirm that it was unmarred (that Nathaniel was still alive). Ichirou noticed the movement and nodded once before he reached for his neglected drink.

“There is to be only one Moriyama heir at a time, to avoid splitting the clan apart with rivalries. My mother, my father’s soulmate, knew that, yet….” He paused for a long swallow of whiskey then refilled the glass once it was set down. “Perhaps she felt certain the child would be a girl, or that my father wouldn’t care if it was a boy since he allowed her to bear the child. Regardless, that child was Riko, and my father chose to punish her for risking the clan’s succession.”

Andrew suspected that the woman hadn’t had her credit cards cut up or something like that, not when Ichirou had another gulp of whiskey.

“It wasn’t enough that Riko took my mother away from me, but my father confirmed at his birth that he was a boy and noticed that he had no soulmate mark. He decided that was the one way that his unwanted child was better than me and resolved to spare me his own weakness.” He held up his exposed left arm and gazed at it without emotion. “When I found my soulmate, he immediately had her killed.”

Well, this was _such_ a fascinating story, all full of fun trauma and everything, but Andrew had a living soulmate he needed to check on (and keep out of trouble). “Can we skip to the point of this? I assume there’s a reason you’re monologuing.”

Ichirou’s eyes narrowed as he rolled down his sleeve. “Riko should never have been born, yet here he is, a thorn in my father’s side. Soon he’ll be a thorn in my side, and that I won’t allow.” The young mobster’s voice grew harsh as he tugged on his suit coat. “Unlike my father, I pay attention to what happens here, I know that Tetsuji has created a monster who is one major scandal from bringing unwanted attention our way.”

“You listen to Nathaniel,” Andrew surmised as he debated one more drink but decided against it.

“ _Nat_ ,” Ichirou acknowledged with a slight bob of his head, “and I’ve placed a few of my men within the Nest in the past year. There has been an increasing amount of Ravens who’ve washed out before graduation in the last couple years due to the ‘stress’ of the program, and now Kevin Day. It’s only going to get worse by the time Riko himself graduates.”

Here came the sales pitch, Andrew thought as he pulled away from the bar. “What do you expect me to do?” Someone like Ichirou didn’t save him from a beating and ply him with expensive alcohol for nothing.

The smile that had threatened to form on Ichirou’s lips finally was allowed free, though it was a slight, cold thing. “Riko has taken much from me, so in return I want him to lose _everything_.” He turned around to face the expanse of windows which overlooked Castle Evermore. “Everything he holds dear, I want him to see it slip from his grasp right before the life he never should have had ends.”

Andrew thought about that for a moment while he felt out the large bump on his head. “You want me to take down Riko.” Ichirou gave a curt nod. “And the Ravens?”

“The team will need new management to undo the damage Riko and Tetsuji has done to it and allow it to be useful once more.”

Okay. “That sounds like you want me to take down Tetsuji as well.” Not that he was complaining, especially after all the canings. Especially after all the canings to Nathaniel.

Ichirou looked over his shoulder, his expression impassive once more. “It needs to be done in a manner that the main branch can control, to ensure that our people are in place to pick up the pieces once those two are removed.”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he picked up the crystal decanter filled with whiskey. “You’re not asking for much, are you?” When Ichirou remained quiet, he clicked his tongue again. “What do I get out of all this?” A million bucks would be nice.

Ichirou resumed gazing upon the Exy court below. “Other than currently not being beaten half-dead by the Butcher? There is the matter of your soulmate.”

Mention of Nathaniel made Andrew stiffen, ready to throw the decanter at the first threat uttered against him. “What about _Nat_?” he asked, voice harsh with warning.

“He will always belong to the Moriyamas, he’s too useful and already knows too many things,” Ichirou said, his back still turned to Andrew as if unconcerned about being attacked. “But as with all things of value, he should be treated with care, not abused and locked away. Agree to this, and he’ll formally belong to the main branch. Once you’ve completed the task? Well, we can discuss allowing Nat a bit more freedom.” He turned around to give Andrew a stern look. “Within reason. He’ll always have obligations to honor.”

Andrew would deal with those ‘obligations’ one day, the main thing was protecting Nathaniel. If it also meant getting him away from the Nest by fucking up Riko? Not a problem, not a problem at all. “Can I rely on your people for assistance?” he asked, mind already busy thinking up possibilities; his biggest challenge was being restricted to the Nest most of the time.

“Of course, Nat can assist you with that.” Ichirou cocked his head to the side as he regarded Andrew. “I assume we are in agreement?”

“Make sure the assholes leave Nat alone and yes, we’re in agreement.” Andrew would be all in to kill Riko regardless, but anything that benefited Nathaniel on top was added incentive.

“Wonderful.”

Not really, that would be Andrew wiping out all the Moriyamas and the Butcher as well then riding off into the sunset in a nice new Ferrari with Nathaniel beside him, but it was a start. He hummed as he walked away with the whiskey, done with the conversation (and Moriyamas) for the time being; he heard Ichirou huff behind him then speak Japanese a moment later, and found a guard waiting out in the hallway who ‘escorted’ him back to the Nest.

Ichirou might be a Moriyama bastard, but at least he knew when to pick his battles.

The halls of the Nest were unusually quiet and empty; Andrew suspected that everyone had gone to ground after their ‘king’ having a wee bit of disconnect from sanity earlier. He made his way to Nathaniel’s room and didn’t bother to knock before entering.

He found his soulmate huddled on his bed, right cheek bruised and expression startled, with Jean nowhere to be found. “Where’s Valjean?” Andrew asked as he sat down on the other end of the bed.

“Uhm, off with Toby and Leif.” Nathaniel gave him a worried look as he slowly unfurled. “Are you all right? Did Tetsuji do anything to you?”

“Just peachy.” Andrew set the bottle on the floor as he turned toward Nathaniel, sore body protesting from the movement. “Why are you alone?”

Nathaniel frowned as he reached for Andrew’s face but stopped just short of touching him. “Because Tetsuji said he called my father. I didn’t want Jean here when he comes.” He glanced at the door and shook his head. “You should go.”

Aw, was someone trying to protect him from the big, bad Butcher? “I already had the displeasure of meeting the walking sperm-bank who fathered you,” Andrew said as he got up to fetch a change of clothes, tired of wearing his uniform; he figured one of Jean’s shirts and a pair of Nathaniel’s loose cotton pants should fit. Somewhat fit.

“Wait, you did? Are you really okay?” Nathaniel asked in a rush as he got up, too (and fetched the pants once he figured out what Andrew was looking for). “Is he still here?”

“Ichirou sent him on his way and told him to leave you alone.” Andrew took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change, but left the door open a crack so they could continue to talk. He’d ache for the next couple days, but it felt good to get his gear off at last.

“Ichirou’s here, too? Great.” It sounded as if Nathaniel slumped against the wall. “Is he angry? I mean, not that he yells or anything when he’s mad, but you can tell because of how he goes all tense and fake smiley.”

Good to know. “Not with you.” If anything, Ichirou thought a little too well of ‘Nat’, especially since he didn’t have a soulmate of his own anymore, but one thing at a time.

“Oh.” Andrew stepped back into the room to find Nathaniel nibbling on his bottom lip as he dwelled on something. “Why did he talk to you, then?”

“Because he wants me to do something for him.” There was no reason to keep it a secret, not when he’d need Nathaniel’s help (and probably Jean’s as well).

And maybe a certain stubborn idiot would back down from throwing himself into trouble if he knew that there was an endgame in sight.

(Who was he kidding?)

“And what is that?” Nathaniel reached out to tug on the overlarge t-shirt Andrew wore and pull him closer, seemingly unafraid of his presence. “What does he want?”

Andrew leaned his forearms against the wall, which penned his soulmate in; Nathaniel gazed at him without fear but a growing amount of impatience. “It seems that he doesn’t care for his baby brother and wants me to take him down,” he murmured after he leaned in, his mouth close to Nathaniel’s right ear.

“You… Ichirou’s finally going to do something about Riko?” Nathaniel stared at him in disbelief. “And he wants you to help?”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he fought not to slide his fingers into his soulmate’s tousled hair. “He wants me to do all the fucking work, and he wants the psycho gone before he causes too many problems.” He’d keep quiet on the whole family drama for now, especially since Nathaniel had his own share of it.

“Oh.” Nathaniel nibbled on his bottom lip again, while Andrew struggled not to shiver in response, to lean in and suck on it to soothe the savaged flesh. “You… you don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’ll help.”

Of course he would. “I agreed to do the deal.”

“And I owe Riko for years of- I owe him,” Nathaniel argued, his voice hoarse and eyes alight with anger.

“Fine,” Andrew relented after a few seconds. “But you listen to me and don’t do anything on your own.” Nathaniel nodded and, after a moment, once more reached for his abused mouth, his fingers a scant distance away as he traced along his split lower lip.

“Are you really okay? I know… I know how my father can be.”

That was quite the understatement. “I’m fine,” Andrew insisted as he gave in and slid the fingers of his right hand into Nathaniel’s mussed curls. “What about you?”

The idiot shrugged and didn’t look away. “Tetsuji hit me a couple times but he was too busy dealing with Riko and willing to leave me to my father.” When his hand lingered near Andrew’s shoulder, Andrew caught it and rested it along the side of his neck; that time he shivered to feel his soulmate touch him.

“There and along my shoulder,” he said, his voice husky for some reason. “Yes or no?” he asked, unable to hold back when his soulmate looked at him like that, when he showed such concern, when he allowed him so close without fear. Unable to explain exactly what he meant.

Nathaniel blinked at the question, his pupils blown and reaction slow, and just when Andrew was about to pull away, used his hold on Andrew’s neck to gently pull him closer. “Yes,” he breathed out as his eyes drifted shut. “Yes.”

Later they would talk, would sit down and figure things out… but right then, all Andrew wanted to do was have Nathaniel’s lithe body against his, to do some of his own nibbling on that full bottom lip, to feel a heartbeat that pulsed in time with his own between his lips as he sucked on his soulmate’s neck…

His _soulmate_.

Nathaniel was addictive and almost docile in his arms, was mindful of his hands while he arched into Andrew’s touch like a cat which craved attention. He was… he was perfect, and only the aches from being hit earlier convinced Andrew that he was real.

He wanted so much more than kisses and lingering touches, but there was Nathaniel choking back on a ‘please’, was him smoothing his thumb over the ‘3’ on a flushed cheekbone. He wanted, and it seemed that his soulmate wanted, too (was it truly real?), yet he pulled away before he did something to ruin the one truly good thing that Fate had seemed to grant him in his life.

(Which he would burn the world to ash to keep safe.)

“Ohhh… wait, no,” Nathaniel breathed out as he grabbed the hem of Andrew’s borrowed shirt. “Why? Did I-“

Andrew flicked at a loose curl that fell onto his soulmate’s face. “That’s enough for now, sweetpea. Don’t want to overwhelm you with my sexiness.”

As expected, Nathaniel went from aroused to annoyed in less than two seconds. “Overwhelm me with your arrogance? Too late, _hasenfürzchen_.” When Andrew went to complain about his nickname, Nathaniel pushed forward and dragged him toward the bed – unfortunately, just to talk. “Now let’s figure out what to do while Jean’s not here.”

True, they’d have more time to talk about things between them on Friday, they might as well focus on getting rid of Riko as soon as possible. Part of Andrew chided him for being a fool in thinking that Nathaniel was such a ‘sure thing’, but each time his soulmate smiled at him and agreed to something long-term….

Nathaniel did the impossible and made him believe.

(Nathaniel also agreed to hide the rest of the whiskey so he didn’t have to share it with Ben, which meant he had something else to look forward to on Friday.)

He forced himself to leave eventually, aware that Jean was worried about his partner and intent on doing something before the Ravens met up for dinner. Nathaniel’s burner phone in hand (oh yes, Ichirou needed to learn some boundaries in regard to others’ soulmates very soon), he went out on court for some necessary privacy and called one of the two numbers on it (the other was going to be deleted very soon).

A familiar voice answered, sounding a bit confused. _“_ Nat? It’s not Sunday, is everything all right?”

_“_ _Everything’s fine, but it’s not Nat_ _,”_ Andrew told Kevin Day in French _. “_ _He did lend me this phone, though, if you hadn’t guessed._ _”_

It was quiet on the end for several seconds. _“_ _Nat’s all right, yes? I mean, you’re his soulmate so_ _-“_

_“_ _Yes, he’s fine_ _.”_ Andrew felt a bit insulted by the question. _“_ _Shut up with the stupid questions, I don’t have much time_ _.”_

_“I- okay, what’s going on?”_

Slightly better. _“_ _This is where you answer my questions and then listen as I tell you what’s going to happen if you want to remain free of the Moriyamas_ _,”_ Andrew told him. _“_ _As well as pay back the friends who got you out of this hellhole_ _.”_ Perhaps he was taking Ichirou a bit too literally with the whole ‘allow Nat more freedom’, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it _._

(He’d kill the crime lord when he came to it, if necessary.)

All that mattered was that Kevin Day listened and obeyed, and played his part in Riko’s downfall.

(He wondered what it would take to get Nathaniel to go with him to Eden’s.)

*******

**Author's Note:**

> Argh, the formatting got really weird for the last couple parts and I did my best, but it's been a lousy day so.... Sorry.
> 
> That's it. This is technically part of a series as there's a follow-up (set a few months in the future after the ending) but again, I'll post eventually.
> 
> There will be a new chapter of Casts a Shadow in a week or so.
> 
> Thanks in advance for any comments or kudos.


End file.
